Paintings

When I picked up the brushes I felt my heart beam I used to paint my feelings and my lost identities I used to sketch what I couldn't say I felt relieved by the end of the day Now those brushes are gavering dust Pencils and painting faded from the yuck My heart no longer glows when I dare a spearing look To what I once ravished in and took Instead despaire and guilt are laced with the touch That was what I onced loved No longer can my feelings take wave from the brush strokes I paint They sit idle, only loved by lonely lust and the damper it ain't It's more of a chore what I once loved Those stainless paintings is what my heart dropped If only I could take what I mistook