Canvas and I are one,
Every stroke becomes my pen.
No painting can compare to none,
For life itself creates again.
The canvas holds a mirror,
Reflecting what I cannot see.
It took years to draw nearer,
To understand the art of me.
Through passing years, affection grew,
For every shade and every hue.
Until at last I came to see,
The hidden portrait was always me.
Slowly, I took the time to learn,
That every soul has art within.
A deeper meaning, we all yearn,
A masterpiece beneath our skin.
No other painting can compare,
No two reflections are the same.
For every life has art to share,
And every soul deserves its frame.
The canvas and I are one,
Our masterpiece is never done.
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