Friday, December 31, 2004
The finished piece isn’t what i'd expected.
I wanted a perfect picture,
but all I have in my bare hands is a teary grey art.
Looking through that,
It may have been a beatific and enchanted year but not at all.
It sure has been a distressing and disconsolate.
Without knowing what is going to happen next,
I look back at 2004 with my drenched eye lids,
masked by my pretty shades.
And I go in search of coloured pencils.
2005 is deliciously an ambiguity for all.
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