<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=366716" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Canvas</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh how she loves her canvas, <br>The stories that it tells.<br>Oh how she loves to paint her thoughts, <br>And etch a perfect spell.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh how she loves her canvas, <br>The memories that it holds.<br>Oh how she loves to trace the lines, <br>And tell if new or old.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh how she loves her canvas, <br>Her stability in an unstable world.<br>Oh how she loves to fret away, <br>At all of her unfurled.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh how she loves her canvas, <br>A standstill of art and truth.<br>Oh how she loves the feel of it, <br>To reminisce her youth.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh how she loves her canvas, <br>A long work of her life.<br>Oh how she loves the twisted colors, <br>Splashes of red upon white.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh how she loves her canvas, <br>She crafts each inch with care.<br>She hides her canvas well away, <br>Though she often earns a stare.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Do not tell of her canvas, <br>Keep the secret- she insists.<br>But perhaps some time take a second glance, <br>For her canvas is her wrist.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Dayna+Mortimore">Dayna Mortimore</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=366716" data-title="The Canvas de Dayna Mortimore" data-description="Oh how she loves her canvas, The stories that it tells. Oh how she loves to paint her thoughts, And etch a perfect spell. Oh how she loves her canvas, The memories that it holds. Oh how she loves to trace the lines, And tell if new or old. O..."></div> </div> </div>

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