Charcoal in Review

Once, I thought I was a rainbow

ready to rain down neon colors

upon the sad and the ill at heart,

but now I see the sketch that I am,

a black-and-white conjecture on paper

that's far from an artist's finest piece

stretched across a canvas in a gallery.

Once, I thought I would be a shade

that would wow and amaze at will,

but I'm just the charcoal dashed

in quick lines and hurried strokes,

an incomplete work hidden from view

and away from all the judging eyes.

Once, I thought it was a terrible thing

to be the unfinished, the work-in-progress,

but I know myself enough to realize

that we all start out as charcoal dashes

until the day we're finally realized

through the love we've shown ourselves.

I'm still learning how to paint myself,

using every pigment and fragment I can,

but someday the sketch will be finished,

on display beside the masterpiece I'll be.