I want to paint…

I don’t know what to paint though,

It could be as beautiful as a blossoming tulip,

It might be only an angry scribble on a page of black.

I could paint the memory of myself reading a book,

I could paint a vase watching the world go by,

I could paint anything waiting for inspiration to spark,

But what to paint is the question.

I could paint rainbows fly, the grim reaper on his break,

Speckled butterflies and wolves howling at the blood moon,

I can paint everything and more…