Canvases

Kind of a metaphor, I guess. Enjoy!

I am a blank canvas,

A pristine white piece of paper.

Everybody, grab your pencils and pens...

Draw me how you like. 

After all, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, right..?

I might not wanna be colored in the colors of your mind's eye,

But what do I know?

I''m merely a canvas.

A blank painting.

A piece of clay in your sculpting hands.

Aren't we all canvases?

Or is it just me...

Aren't we all just clay,

In the primordial view of this world?

Canvases everywhere...

Although, many of us dislike how our sculptors have sculpted us.

Unhappiness runs rampant among those who have already been painted.

This world has turned them into neo-narcissistic, dirty, grimy self images

Of the people who created them.

A vague image of who they used to be...

Of their old blank canvas...