Paint the world he said to me once,
walking in just when I first saw the glimpse of light.
Make it beautiful he stressed,
giving me the best of tools to carry out his plan.
The feeling was incomplete,
as if an important part of a puzzle was missing.
I tried to reach him once,
but in daylight i lost his vision,
in darkness his shadow.
Life moved on & on,
painting fragments of emotions,
sometimes on lives, sometimes on moments shared.
The tools were all there but something yet missing.
Maybe it was time I painted my own canvas.
The tools all lying there, but the mind blank.
Maybe it was suppose to be that way,
Maybe he’d done it his way.
Well of course he did,
giving the best of tools to carry out his plan,
with a canvas wider than the world in sight!