Pencil Lines Are Faint
Perhaps I’ll learn to paint
Because pencil lines are faint
And poems are so subtle
They get lost inside the shuffle
I need to buy some bristles
Because words can be so brittle
If I had the perfect brush
Then my feelings may fall flush
I’ll trade paper for a palette
And lyrics, for the talent
To blend the shades, a mixture
To set my soul in picture
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