Personal Canvas

dated 25.06.06

There are times when I just can’t shake this feeling of frustration
That allies itself to a growing desire of evasion.
I strongly feel like stopping my existing
Just like that, without having to worry about carrying the weight of being human.
The responsibility of having to learn how to lead one’s life and win it,
Often turns him into a captive of his own efforts and expectations.

I wish I could start over…from scratch.
Like a blank canvas, virgin to new colors and ideas,
Just ready to be drawn on
By an inexperienced artist, whose palette of hopes and dreams keep eager to live.

Life was pretty, until I realized it was mostly made out of deception…
And mistakes, they craft who you are.
Funny, to think that I’m made of my own failures…
How can that make me a better person…?
How will a warrior succeed in the real battle if he can’t even win his own rebellion?

Life took a wrong turn somewhere along the way
And now, all I am is just a tired artist,
Gazing evasively this foul old canvas,
With no shining colors on his palette.