The Painter and His Muse

When pain and sorrow drained my life of color, I lived in a world of black, white, and gray. Monotoned monotony plagued my sight, Decaying and in disarray. And along the way, I met a man with brushes and a palette of colors-- Some shades that I'd never seen And he painted the gray skies bright blue And the dying grass, a vibrant green. He painted the stars into the night sky And rainbows, after each rain. Until I found myself-- Living in color, again. He painted pastel sunrises, And he painted the most beautiful, colorful sunsets Each one different than the last, yet, None I will ever forget . And after he finished painting my world, he noticed that I still seemed a bit out of place- And he erased the frown and redrew it upside down, And quickly painted a beautiful smile upon my face. He softened the lines that heartache had left and contoured and blended the blemishes I wore from my past, and he took the tears from my eyes, and painted them bright and full of sass. And then he stepped back, carefully looking over his masterpiece, Only to find something else was missing- the painting ceased and he'd gone away- Reappearing beside me, saying that he loved it so much that forever, here is where he'd stay.