I sat there on the floor of my room, canvas on my lap, paintbrush in my hand. I
slapped the paint down again and again. Slap, slap, slap. I watched the paint form, and it
All the time I was thinking of you, about what you'd done. The faces kept coming,
filling up my canvas. I saw the pain in their eyes and I knew what they were hiding.
Soon, somehow, I began to let you slip away. And you became only a speck on the
horizon. The faces began to change, they were letting go too. Hope filled their eyes
and I remembered what it is to be strong.
I looked at all the faces around me, filling up my room. I looked at all the faces I
had painted and I smiled because none of them looked like you.