• The white is a deep concrete well
    Filled to the brim with colors, yet blank
    To look at the page is to feel the pull
    To open the hatch of a heavy tank
    One by one the ideas stream out
    Something moves, the tools move in
    The void screams and begins to pout
    The valiant colors have taken the win
    The troops depart and begin to roam
    Different shades in the dark of night
    They give it shape, they give it depth
    The sun is out with the warmth of light
    They give it joy, they give it strength
    The figures dance the image lives
    The drawing’s done, its vibrant life