Wednesday, October 21, 2009

What I Am

I am a blind man with a burning urge
To paint the sunset I have never seen.
Fumbling with these brushes, trying to purge
This image from my mind, to make it clean
With the unknown things I think that I mix
On my palette. Making a royal mess.
I'm a boxer, throwing punches at bricks.
Striking hard blows and moving with finesse
Against an opponent I'll never knock
Down. Bleeding through my gloves, my knuckles swell
And burst. Hands stay up, remember to block.
Keep fighting, no one's there to ring the bell.
     I cannot be what I am and have what
     I want. Truth so sharp I can't feel it cut.

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