You watch me speak as if I was speaking a verse from a beautiful poetry book, you smile at me. Your watchful eyes make me feel like an art piece in a gallery in NYC 34th street. I was never seen as an art piece which is something I’ve always dreamed of. Have I told you? That I see each person as an art piece, that as time passes by and each person that they meet, adds a little bit of color to the canvas that you are. Hues of blues, yellows, and greens. What color will you bring me? You’re the final color to finish me into a masterpiece.
(picture not mine)