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A Poem for Me
Just one girl,
Thats who I am.
One girl who wants to make a difference,
One stroke of paint at a time.
I strive to be something brilliant.
The next Monet maybe,
To be great in a way
Like no one else.
Creating history with each painted pigment
And drawn out design.
But with my art, there’s a rhythm,
A rhythm that unveils itself in harmony.
My fingers dance along the strings,
Each note ringing out,
My heart bleeding over the words,
My soul pouring into the music.
I’m that one dreamer
Amongst the sleepers,
A wild flower among
A patch of roses,
Waiting to be discovered.
The whispering trees speak to me,
Calling me to come out and play.
I watch with awe and wonder,
As the beautiful branches sway.
I’m more than just a freckled face.
Behind my seeking eyes,
There’s a girl waiting to break free,
Like a captive horse
Craves for the liberty it’s never known.
And like a wild horse,
My brush skitters across the blank space,
But as my creating hand caresses the canvas,
My story unfolds,
Waiting to be finished,
A work in progress
Soon to be a masterpiece.
But until that day comes
When all is said and done,
I’ll wait and while I wait,
Well, maybe I’ll paint.
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