INK
A Poem

Why must you smear charcoal
Over a painting that was a masterpiece to begin?
Why must you detract from your natural beauty
With uncarefully crafted scribbles across your skin?
A stamp upon your hide like cattle,
Isn’t attractive nor does it make it come alive.
For truth lives in the heart –
Meaning resides on the inside.
You are the artist,
But can’t you see your canvas is already done?
God perfected you in beauty,
His masterpiece should not be undone.
Decisions for permanent decorating
Should not be made on a whim.
For now feminine beauty is covered
By black, tainted skin.
Ink is the life-force
Of each and every artist’s hand.
But the page is forgiving,
Our mistakes do not become our brand.
Ideas have power,
Never publish without careful revision.
Because words can never be taken back
By an untimely decision.
If an idea has no weight
Unless you see it in the mirror,
I’m afraid it never existed at all,
Can’t you see that, my dear?
For if we have to convince the world or ourselves
Who we are by throwing it in their face,
It’s time we retreat to the quiet
And figure out who we are in the first place.
Ink is magic,
But too much overwhelms the mind.
So choose your words carefully,
And keep unrefined symbols from your lines.

-Poem Written by Justin Farley

photo credit: Frustrated Scribbles via photopin (license)