That blank piece of paper.

What is art for me? Well that’s hard to answer. Its the color to my paper life.

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“Like a nail on dry skin

On paper the sound its makin

Its so satisfying

Its so pleasing

Its my strength

Physically invisible

Its my expression

Which I can never express

Its how I show

What I am; On the inside

Its my identity

Which needs no card

Its my passion

Which consumes me

Its the voice

Which is never heard; But seen

Its the word

That isn’t read; But observed

Its me, my mind, my life

Which initially

Was merely a blank piece of paper.”

One thought on “That blank piece of paper.

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