Art is where I share
and emotionally spend,
changing from a rigid man
to someone that can bend
in a creative land.
Writing, you can be openly free,
for a period putting my mind at ease,
escaping this trapping disease.
Often I feel I am being attacked,
but with this outlet,
i have a sliver of light,
which I previously lacked
triggering a new found fight.
In turmoil, alternating
from depression and anxiety,
stuck in pain, escaping briefly,
feeling a little more sane.
Judgements faced,
memories erased,
I still have the beauty
of colors and words.
Many times surrounded
by caring people, I feel all alone,
but give me an empty
canvas or paper,
I now have a friend,
he is full of hope,
and doesn’t laugh
at the messages in which I send.
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