Pixelated Paintings

You know I like a good prompt and these are M’s for February. Why not give them a whirl.  I seem to have taken to kinda dark angsty type of poems this month.  Who’d have thought eh 🙂


Fingers, gnarled, long seasons passed

eyes sharp, hair white as snow

and every stroke a story told

kept secrets now on show

.

For all to see, to know, to feel

onto the canvas bleeds

fists clenched, heart swells, soft whispers beckon

fulfilment of his needs

.

To be forgiven, to forget

to rest, to sleep, in grace

dead eyes refuse, deny him yet

and so he sees her face

 

in every stroke, in everything

compelled, tries to forgive

himself and begs she let him go

at last once more to live

 

the very life he took which now

she lives through each brush stroke

and so they hang upon his walls

and creeping madness stoke

 

until wild eyed, wet browed, he screams

she laughs into the night

compels him paint, and how she smiles

from the canvas in delight

 

 

 

 

 

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