With a paper and pen
I found the secret garden
starts where right ends
ends before wrong begins.
I found that garden with a paper and pen.
As a child
confinement to play
with plastic creations
merely left my imagination starving
for a challenge. I had no flow if i could not create.
Consider, conclude, erase and refine.
I found my flow with a paper and pen.
My mothers stories of her paper doll worlds
igniting my fire
awaking my trance.
With my paper and pen
I drew my own worlds,
No rules, dictations, sad endings or goodbyes.
Truth was my truth, no reason for lies
my imagination forged refugee
In this beautiful place
Preserving my innocence,
granting me grace.
I found strength in my mind with a paper and pen.
My childhood play eased
me into adulthood.
When I went into the world
I was saddened to find color blindness had fallen on so much of mankind.
Do as I say, not as I do. Why is everyone doing what they are told to do?
Physical slavery ended long enough ago
Did we free our bodies?
with our souls still caged?
I am a soul with a body
Not a body with a soul
Man existing merely in shades of gray, black and white, night and day, wrong and right.
I was astonished to fathom
So, many had never been to the garden!
It is adorned with indigo, brilliant oranges, fiery reds, no lie without exception
every color you can blend.
This tale I tell
in a metaphorical way
is as unique as a painting
interpret as you may
there is no right or wrong
just a key to the garden
welcome home, it’s been far too long.
I transcended with a paper and pen.