behind the walls
there are colors that haven't been painted yet
hues and tints only exist
in unfinished paint brushes
the room is so simple without imagination
blood has not been shed
in the form of art
these walls cannot live
if they are not alive
the eyes are looking for something
that was never there to begin with
doors are being closed
because there is nothing to welcome them
crayons are crying
and canvases are playing I spy
with ceilings
the floorboards are bored with white shadows
these walls are smaller
when there is nothing but hollow beings beneath them
crack a child's imagination
spill it with purpose
fill this empty room with something
anything
these walls
just want to be heard
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