The Palette of Lowest Tide

The Palette of Lowest Tide

We are lost inside a canvas,
captured only by our thoughts.
Then the artist arrives,
bringing colors black and blue.

How could you feed me,
with things I never wanted,
yet still force me to believe in the art?

Spoiled colors of red and blue.
Do you still claim black is beautiful?
Look at my mess.

It was created when you were at your lowest.
I never saw a single day you wanted to live.
You died whenever you held that brush,
and painted pictures from your thoughts.