A Stroke of Perfection :: JamilahAyanna :: Original Poetry

A Stroke of Perfection
I sat in front of an empty canvass the other day,

Thinking of the perfect portrait in which I wanted to portray,

I began, and subconsciously I preceded to perfect my stroke,

Molding wonders until I hit a block, and my art began to choke,

Attempting to find myself within the collage of thoughts my brain created,

Getting weary though I watch my hands as they are unabated,

I try to consummate my masterpiece, but I lacked proper formation,

My creation was deficient without any present inspiration,

Though the colors were all of beauty, I found no amazement in my work,

I wanted to see the bigger picture, yet my eyes were consumed by murk,

I introverted the inner thoughts within my mind,

To grasp the feeling of a stunning work of art I'd hope to find,

Restrained by the idea of what I felt to be perfection,

Merely lacking understanding of my art's nonexistent affection,

As I meditate on my shortcomings the image is surely clear,

The raw emotion of my mental art is bigger than it appears,

As I alleviate my mind, I close my eyes to find a clue,

Mental images of your physical features start to cloud my view,

I chiseled jaw, facial hair, a coat of chocolate brown or two,

The perfect portrait lacks perfection without the image that is you.