The Canvas

I look at this blank page as my canvas
And the look on my face tired and weary,
As I finish my masterpiece
Or rather start it-
I can’t get past the start as always
And I drag it on for days,
Searching only for ways-
Ways to finish and create something worthwhile,
My expression going out of style
Waiting for words to drip off my pen
And create something beautiful.
This page still scarily blank
As I hope for my thoughts to drop-
To plummet onto the page during my fits of rage,
So I come out of my cage-
And I let them drop-
Sprawling on my page as paint would on a canvas.
My thoughts and emotions falling off my chest-
Drained from my mind.
While I work, my mind in a trance,
Because I know there is always a second chance
And as my canvas becomes covered, my eyes lighten up-
My masterpiece complete
I’ve reached yet another incredible feat