A Painter


If I were a painter,
My insecurities would hang,
Quivering on the bright white of the walls.

To be seen by the men in suits,
To the man in his tracksuit and sneakers,
Holding an old newspaper in his hand.

It has no role in changing the minds of a generation,
It’s just there for it’s worth,
And more speculation.

Published by Hayley McManus

I'm a writer who wants to share more content, instead of keeping them jammed in many notebooks in fear of anything and everything illogical.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: