Let me paint my pain

In colors and hues

Beautifully depicted

By shapes and lines

Of verses that are

cunningly crafted

by rhymes, in my lit

forget it, I need to paint

my pain or write

words with no restraint

or limits, pushing their

edge and pulling them

from my head or psyche

lovely, is the acrylic sonnet

how glorious the tinted

ballad bouquet that’s balmy

or fragranced by a hint of  rose

in the shadows of pink hearts

pierced by the strains of poverty

and brown breached injustice smears

lavished by black and white tears

veneered, in order to protect it

I have to paint my pain!

Using written speech

Or talk that will speak

Uplift the spirit of humanity

Prick the conscious

Membranes of those who hear

With their soul and mind

Give voice to the cry of those in need

Or personally, display my self portrait

Not above an abstract airbrushing

But the canvas is unique

And filled with all coloring

Etched in microscopic people

Portrayed in this chosen expression

Drafted or penciled, in poesy

Or literary piece that reminds me,

I always paint the  pain

And fears, those things

That bring camaraderie

And company in the topic

We can all relate the subject

Or a fellowship in word’s artistry

Is brought to the gallery

it is a featured exhibit

Beheld, as they take in

Hearing, the shuffling of feet and

Low mumbling, of poems visitors

They buy the tarp of mental visions

And bare the exhibition of words

Within their spirit not leaving

Any part or piece on the easel

Of poetry behind

Devoured by the power

Of authored inscriptions

Or transcriptions of the poetic mind

Who painted the words of art

Leaving only snippets of significance

Important, when they come together

Designed to announce the

aspect and implication

Meaning, the painted picture

Of  verbal torture

Illustrated, by my painted pain