White is the beginning stages,
Pure, innocent untouched.
Free from abuse, free from sin,
Fragile, all too much.

The strokes of blue and yellow
Are often happiness
That starts when we are children
And spreads as we progress.

Then pink and red abstractions
Resemble that of hurt
The kind we all have painted
And put us on alert.

The browns and blacks are shaded,
Mixed, then dabbed and brushed
To show our dreams and hopes
Are completely up to us.

Alas the greens and purples
Combine life's mysteries
To show the little rainbow
And artist we can be.

But in my little artwork
I left a paintless slot
In hopes that you will come
And fill in the empty spot.

Together we can paint
A picture-perfect memory
And spend life so in love
That would fill a gallery.

And when the painters hands are weakening
And the years grow on and on
And the frame is old and dusty
The colors will still be strong!