Loving An Obdurate Boy

It’s a long road of forgetting the past. When everything was inevitably colorful. Things that lack me today. In the present…I’m not content with this. Tell me, dear boy, why do good people change for the worse? Why is your head driven by naivety? Why can’t you grow up? Look up and see the stars I made just for you to feel enlighten for once. And yet, why are you throwing me away?

I speak with love and adoration, and yet you become earless; immune to my mouth. I may never breach the cavalier walls you build around yourself. I may never know the reason why you left. Simply, all I want is to drift away to a renewed mind where you won’t occupy any of its space.

Canvas

A pure white canvas, many envied it. No such thing as dirt was imprinted. Dirt that was carried by time and its drastic waves of torture. I felt it in my palms the smoothness of its surface; roughness in a way but never enough for a scratch.

I studied this pure white canvas, its easel slowly breaking somewhat signaling me that I’m almost out of time. My world spun like it never did as I studied the canvas in front of me. Wide eyes while inspiration flowed through my fingers. I grabbed the paint brush sitting next to me. Clarity struck my mind and ideas sprung. Eagerness to please, hands not failing.

Now it was drawn on, painted on, colored, and unrecognizable because of the stain of sin. The canvas was full, I lost my breath.