There I stood
at the failure of human understanding.
We’re both creative people, you know -
Yours is for pleasure & mine is for show.
They tell me that you can never bestow your happiness
on the flowers that appear in your window. Still you find that
the one person’s creative voice overpowers yours and
you begin to panic. Panicking. Panicking. Panicking.
Until you feel like you’ve lost its soul - its creative, creative soul.
Give it back.
I’m just one painting away