The Artist
You paint your sky in blue and white.
Each day brings something new.
And towards the end the colors blend;
You add a red-gold hue.
But when night falls the colors fade –
You wash your canvas clean.
In constant flow, I watch them go,
As fickle as a dream.
As a sculptor you’re a tricky sort
Outside we seem the same.
One must look deep, peer far beneath,
To see your hidden game.
You’ve carved out worlds within us all
The heavens mixed with hells,
We touch, consume; we kiss, collide
To funeral and wedding bells
And when your night descends on us
I wonder if you care,
That not a single human soul
Has found your artwork fair.
We live, and hope, and die alone _
A world apart from others.
As forlorn as a fallen star,
A love without a lover.
So, when you dare to smear and bleed
The color from my eyes,
Leave them bare, or set me free
From the canvas of the mind.
Nathan Ybanez, 2005