the Life Canvas

I was struck with inspiration just moments before. And this is what I came up with.

Is age really just a number
or a numeral definition to one's soul?
The young years that polish a child's personality
to a deceiving shine?
They all look and sound the same.



Or the bruised, battered and worn fabric 
with the feel of a foreign material, captures my curiosity
of that who roamed the world and aged with grace?



I want to surf the characters of all time
on a solid board of knowledge
I want to hear the waves crashing around me as I remember
So that I may illustrate each race and age
according to the complexion of their views
Must I always use such cold hues?



Adolescence is damned
with society's poisonous ideas of living
and bleach
that will strip the soul of all its luminosity and significance



But with age, follows wisdom
Amidst maturity, surfaces majority
The rich smell of exploration and brilliance
with personalities that go much further
than a child with unborn poise



Yet I suffocate
from the waves of nowadays culture
Surfacing for oxygen....


Intelligence shall be my lifesaver.



A baby is born, and the canvas is blank.
The smell of paint intoxicates me so I
can taste its poisonous fumes
but at least I have


inspiration to paint.

Reviews

[Emrick]

(Intelligence shall be my life saver).i like that line.