In strokes and hues, I paint my view,
Like the great poets, in verses too.
Each color a word, each line a phrase,
Capturing life's intricate maze.

Splatters of joy on canvas wide,
The indigo nights when I've sat and cried.
In shades of ochre and cerulean blue,
I've scrawled my love and fears anew.

A crimson dot for every beat,
That skipped when our wandering eyes did meet.
With abstract forms, I spell desire,
A smearing blend of smoke and fire.

In turquoise dreams, I find my place,
A world untouched by time or space.
I sketch my hopes in charcoal lines,
Wrap my prayers around the pines.

This art, my poem, lives to speak,
Of the human dance, both strong and weak.
I write like the great poets, you see,
But my parchment's canvas, my ink's my decree.