Was I that girl,
You took as your muse,
The innocent canvas
For your craft to abuse,
*
Was I that girl,
You traced onto paper,
Sketch book reflections,
For you, the creator.
*
Was I that girl,
You sculpted in clay,
Moulded and formed,
Till I learned to obey.
*
Was I that girl,
You painted in oil,
Rendered immortal,
In sweat and gold foil.
*
Was I that girl,
You wrote sonnets for,
Melodies of sorrow,
Of what was before.
*
Oh, I was that girl,
I know it is true,
For the woman I am,
Was created by you.
Really nice poem. The professor kept looking at the picture though and felt these girls all had one thing in common: long, long, necks. The professor knows that’s the style of the picture right?
lol, yes I think its the style of the picture 🙂
I was scared for a moment.
Great poem.. 🙂