Her Secret
The painter stood staring at her canvas
Right infront of her
All of the painting palettes she needed stood looking at her, But she couldn't paint
Was it the inspiration that was missing
I can't really tell
But one thing for sure was missing
Everyone is inspired by something or someone
But it was different for her
And that difference was missing
Every stroke depended on her joy or sadness
The more intense the emotion
The better the painting was
But how will she paint now
When she can't figure out what is happening
There are no tears in her eyes but
No smile or laughter either
It's as if someone cut off her invisible hands
But what will she do?
How will she tell her audience
That she can't put up more paintings for them to see
How will she?
So she sat on that chair
Facing her canvas
Staring at her palettes
And left her mind to wonder into nothingness
Hoping she'll find an answer
Or a painting would come from her