Swiriling Colors

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

When a painter lost their love for a painting they created

The fresh
Smell of oil pastels
Were noticed when ithit the white
Canvas
My fingertips kissed the colors
Swirling them within another
Splashing them around the empty
Space
Using thickbrushstrokes across
The blank, incomplete picture
Quickly
Dipping the end of the paint brush
Into the paint, I dotted the parts uncolored
I felt as if an 56th Impressionist
Would
Viewing and gazing at such a sight
Uncentered yet puzzling
Based on composition alone
It's not entitled
What shall it be called?
Love
It's called love
But I shouldn't name it this
Because my heart has been taken
By another painting...

 


Submitted: June 12, 2010

© Copyright 2021 Remedy. All rights reserved.

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Comments

XxmimixX

Who who who who who?? Tell me hun!!!

xD

Mon, June 14th, 2010 2:08pm

Author
Reply

Oh wow xD this poem was just random hunni3 bunzz :)

Tue, June 15th, 2010 3:08am

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