Painting

• Kai Gillespie, Grade 10
• Poetry
• 2012

I watched.
My feeling and emotion spill out onto placid white;
like chocolate, smooth movement on my tongue.
A square, circle, triangle.
Light in its dark.
Always botched.
Although the audience thrives on my mistakes, like parasites craving new meat.
With click and snap of editorial pens, my imminent downfall.

In fact the colours were always to my distaste;
much to my grievous gall.
Their cruel criticisms, crushing me alive.
Even as their judging silence thunders in my ears, I feel, as I watch;
my soul take a dive