Paint brushes scattered on the kitchen table I dab water colors, blend reds and blues Nothing I put on paper seems quite right I turn to a new page and starts again The voice in my head taunts me, “You’ll never be good enough.” “Who do you think you are?” “Your colors are bleeding into each other.” I drop the brush, head in my hands The voices continue. “Give up while you’re ahead.” “How desperate for a hobby are you?” “No wonder you’re sad and alone.” I can’t stop the words They hit me in the back of my head Bullets whizzing by Landing in my mind And that’s when it happens. Tears roll down my cheeks and fall to the page I wipe my eyes and see The most beautiful painting I’ve viewed I sigh, And put my paint brushes away For the night.