A/N: Inspired by a friend when she got angry during art class and scribbled all over her work.
Timcanpy: Don't worry, I'm super updated on the manga, but it just felt better to put it like that. I actually LOVE the moon more then the sun but I want to save that poem for when I can make it astounding (I hate the heat...). To tell you the truth, I have little to no free time in school anymore, but since it is part of a project, I am allowed to type it up. So it's all good.
Lonely Kitty: glomps back Thanks so much for your positive reviews. I must say that I am very happy to know that I inspired you! Hope you like this one too!
TO REVIEWERS: Even though there is only (really) two of you, I must say that I am greatly happy that you guys have been reviewing my work. Not just that but nice, postive reviews that make me smile, re-read them a hundred times and the start on my next poem. I enjoy your guys ideas and love how you have commented on all of my poems. So I would just like to shout out a big "THANK-YOU" to you guys!
Oil Pastel of a Mad Man
Beautiful colours.
Of all the rainbow
Smearing the page.
That was once white
Smelling of oil, chalk and something I can't place.
Perhaps pastel?
I press hard on my board.
Your sacred easel.
Grabbing the red, white, and yellow.
And maybe blue, black, and green
Painting the sky,
With nothing but oil
And smearing the land.
With soft, tainted fingers
I draw a leaf here.
With the green
I sketch a cloud there.
From the white
I colour the sky blue
That is dark and sincere
And I begin to smear red.
The reeking, raw, repulsive red
The colours smear together,
In a strange fusion
Creating a grey.
That is unlike black
I look at my page,
That once had purpose
It is covered in colours.
That forms an image only for you
The grey background,
The slashes of white,
The fading blue,
The dripping red,
The smeared green,
And the invisible black
Pressing hard on the surface,
With yellow instead
I scratch and scar the page.
That forms a picture to you
Throwing the pastel aside,
Discarding the thing
Screaming and laughing at the same time.
As the rainbow falls to the cold ground
Breathing heavy and hard I look back.
Back to the paper
Placing my hand upon it.
The oil seeping through
Feeling the rough, the smooth, the smeared.
And then it dawns upon you
I realize,
What the art is
That like this work that started with hope,
Your life flows down
And ended up a torn masterpiece.
So much like you
The colours form my life,
Withered and torn
The pattern flowing from me.
In beautiful awareness
The picture is complete.
The title
The name,
"Shattered life of me"