Sometimes I curse
this ever wondering mind
of a dreamer
I find myself looking for inspiration everywhere
and on days like these
I find nothing
Hoping for the wind to blow in a change
or an idea
of something to put on paper
with ink or oil pastels
on these days
I dream too much
and I don't talk enough
on these days
I think too much
and I don't express enough
On these days
I am looking for God everywhere
trying to figure out
what an artist is supposed to be
I don't quite understand
what I'm supposed to do
with this overactive mind
I spend days
walking in familiar circles
my eyes grazing faces
finding lines I'll use in my next abstract
or words I can make into stanzas
but never finding familiarity
I spend nights awake
to greet mornings
with paint
or pencils
and clear eyes
it was never enough for me
this so-called "magic" I create
So in darkness I curse this mind of mine
Waiting for the day
I can look God in the face
and tell him to take it back
