Part of the Poems of the Heart series decied to split from the actual area where all of these poems gather, check them out after you read this one


Have you looked at a Painting,

Them still drawings that,

Not all the time you see,

What do they mean?

Have you looked at life,

As a moving painting,

Always changing,

Like an aged painting?

Through the eyes,

The clouds could be paintbrush strokes,

Waves always changing color,

Like multiple paintings moving swiftly.

What do you think?

Is life a Painting?

Or is a painting a painting?

You chose, this is what I think.

Please tell me what you think, and Thanks for reading.