I am a Painter Tainter

More paint on my hand

Than on my canvas land,
Pretty colours splattered
And I am just so flattered.
Some see it as a land of hollow
Some see it as the love I follow.
Shadows are redifined
For some it appears so fine,
For others its just another painting of mine.
Diversity of opinions I find
But I dont really mind,
Its how each sees
How my life flees,
One moment I am stumbling and mumbling,
The other, I am bubbling and shuffling.
When all You do is see my paint
All I can see is my hand that holds the taint.
Such a strange word it is,
My canvas isn’t the proof of my hardwork,
My hands are.

I am a painter,
But also a tainter.
When I paint,
I also taint.
And you too are just Painters
My Dear Tainters…

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2 thoughts on “I am a Painter Tainter”

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