The Artist

by Carmen Mason
When you start   everybody and everything
           is there with you    past   present   friends   family

critics   strangers    and all the greats

the empty brain-washed canvas

brushes    oily rags

paintswirls on the palette


or     the empty pages in  your head

words   flit  like


then finally

all leave one by one

you’re  all alone

and   then

if you’re lucky

really lucky on this day

 you leave too

I’ve been writing prose and poetry since I was six. Won the Ist prize in Seventeen Magazine’s short story contest at 17 and several poetry prizes through the years. I write because I cannot help myself. I write to empty out the thoughts I cannot hold inside a day or hour more.