Poetry · WRITE

Midnight Confession – First Memory

The cheering sparks of light in the sky

Hands clean canvases to the crowd below.

I am handed my canvas,

But I find it all ready,

Matted with canvas base.

I wondered why mine was marked,

When I haven’t said a word.

I bring it closer and I see,

A painting of you and me.

Our pasts, our regrets,

The moments we can never forget,

Have all been tattooed and sewn

Deep into the canvas core.

I’ve began my canvas with something in mind,

Which is why

The canvas is painted with us.



More poems on my Tumblr blog 🙂



The Little Novice