My style is perhaps no style
Just the best painting:
Ignore the works of the ego
No artistic rhymes
No hollow metaphors
Just an attempt
An urge
Whatever it takes
To outline
To scatter
What I see
What I feel
Utterly
The most truly.
Because of this,
I can't really help
Empty minds
Waste time
Riddled at the blank
Dwelling in plastic.
For what's seen
Grasped truly,
The beauty of the world,
It's always clear
The words become candid
Inviting, warm hugs.
In a napkin or a tissue
With colorful kids' pencils,
Draw the world as it is
Simply and beautifully
Just that
With no deceit
With no excuse.
If anything,
Try to just
Make light
Out of puzzles,
Not puzzles
Out of light.