CANVAS

Pausing briefly before the passage of time,
Where we both exist and you aren’t mine…
Not gazing behind at the vales of the past;
Fruitful, funny… if forever they could last…
I wish I was a painter, to my canvas you belonged,
I’d paint life with the colors, the colors that you long…
But my canvas is empty, white as it can be-
White as the color, what life means to me-
I wish I was a gardener, with colors everywhere-
Flowers to look after, but it’s you for whom I care,
You’re the loving flower in my gardener’s Eden,
You’re the fruit I knew that was long since Forbidden!
But the garden of my life with its coarse strokes of the brush,
Has ruined my empty canvas, its colors are all flushed
By the reality, of who I am and what I mean to you-
Feels like I’m breaking down, my dreams are all gone too.
Except that tiny glimmer of hope that brings a fleeting smile,
Maybe one day… I dunno… looks like a million miles…