A dozen careful ones,
With each line they draw,
A new detail they show.
A pathway to the mind of the creator,
His thinking they reveal.
His state of mind at the moment,
His desires, his dreams.
And, from out of nothing,
A picture appears,
A product of imagination,
Painted by feelings,
Embellished by colors...
2 comments:
Superlike
thanks :)...it feels weird writing something that is not-rhyming and calling it a poem though :)
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