Paintings of Heart

A Poem by Greg9119

I wrote this when just thinking of love, quite original i know -.-

The world is filled with master pieces, each and every single one being a person,
Everything that meets your eyes is just a picture with a hidden meaning,
Are we not all paintings? A blank canvas at first made of an infinite number of brush strokes,
Each curve and shade of color expressing something so deep only the artist of it can understand its meaning,
There is the brush of love however which seems to differ from any others with its strokes,
The brush of love dips into all colors making the very heart of the painting,
The brush of love crosses through many paintings bringing the colors of one to another, letting true understanding happen between two portraits,
Its strokes are infinite with colors, happiness, sadness, and pain,
Sometimes we try to avoid its touch, this is an impossible task,
Even a drop from love will drip and spread into things such as cracks and roses,
Every painting needs this color or else these portraits of our very being will be left with blank and open spaces,
These dry and bair peaces of parchment will remain cold unable to be filled with any color besides that of love,
Life is an art peice, we just need to look to see it, if we would just look at everyones paintings carefully...
If we could look to understand someone elses colors of heart, maybe we could avoid tearing and smudging the most beautiful portraits ever created.