The Artist - Old Gray

If something in the past can teach me,

I’ll look back to find it.

I swear I’ll feel brave someday, just not yet.

My heart stopped.

I’ve been cutting ties with emotion,

I’ve been trying to get by without devotion.

I didn’t want to feel or smile or,

better yet, didn’t want to have to learn to feel things again.

What can I leave behind that will never fade?

Where can I place my pride?

Where will I find something that feels sincere?

For every dream that I’m still trying to fill,

I’ve had to let go of countless more.

How do I know which ones to keep?

How do I know if it’s not too late?

Why now?

I used to dream of being an artist;

the world needed paint as bright as my visions.

But love never shows it’s true colors,

the world reflected black so I painted myself.