Sitting silently with a friend
amongst the rolling r's and foreign flavors;
Eyes made heavy by these long endeavors
as the day comes to a slow, slow end.
No one here knows my beginning
nor do they sing of my demise;
But as these long held issues arise,
Their eyes reveal my world is spinning.
Out of control, and back into it again
The illusion must not reassume its role;
I am the freed one, alone and then
Nothing else could make me whole.
Just a little poem I scribbled in my sketchbook while I was in Italy, and a photo preview of some of my paintings from the trip! I'll be posting high quality versions of these all very soon :)