Bigger people got there first,
Painting colors they liked best,
Splashing blobs from their own mess.
When I held my brush at last,
Several layers had been laid:
Yellow, green, and angry red.
Frantic, I despaired; but then
Years passed, and the paint was dry.
I saw colors clear, and why
Deep blue emptied out my eyes,
Purple shone the sleepless nights,
Yellow held me back from light.
Paint is permanent, but see,
When it's dry, that's not the end -
You can paint on top, my friend.
Twenty layers deep it goes.
Twenty more will cover, blend,
Synthesize a richer end.
Painting by Melissa McCracken