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Dirty Canvas

a poem

By Sun BeePublished 2 years ago • 1 min read
Photo by Esteban Trivelli on Unsplash

I scrape off the dirt from my soul,

triggers invade, taking their toll.

Everything I do seems to be wrong,

I must start anew, not prolong.

Wipe the slate clean before dawn.

Heartburn consumes me as memories whirl,

adding only black colours to the mix.

No light to guide me.

I walk blindly

on hot coals and amidst swirling snakes,

my limbs are both threatened.

I thresh with my hands.

Sowing the seed of hope.

Will I ever see the light

at the end of this vast field

before the rain pours?

I put on my usual gear

and listen to music on headphones.

I weave

text between

the lines of the lyrics.

It works again, I feel free.

Maybe not completely, but let me be!

I work hard to keep on the level.

I must continue on this two-sided field,

despite not fitting.

It doesn't matter, as I'm already there.

No one can take away

the most important part.

I am alive!

Life, given only once, will persist.

I cannot live one day and not the next.

Who gives millions of lives,

if we haven't deserved it?

One is enough.

Make good art - your own!

On this canvas,

use precious pieces of gold

as parts of your soul.

Plan it meticulously and resolve it at last.

---

Thank you for reading!

nature poetrysad poetrysurreal poetryinspirationalMental HealthStream of Consciousnessheartbreakvintage

About the Creator

Sun Bee

UK-based

BA in Cultural Studies

Unsplash

Crime Fiction: Love

Poetry: Friend

Psychology: Salvation

A real writer with real experience, not always understood.

Deeply rooted in humanity.

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    Written by Sun Bee