My story

My life is like a book in which I am still penning the words in,
Like a canvas just starting to show the shapes and colors.

Im no longer empty pages,
Finally more than just dull blurs of bland color.

I used to hate the bumps and curves in the road of my life,
They made things so difficult to deal with.

Now I look and see they were necessary steps to make me stronger,
They made up the colors on the canvas I now look at.

The ink on my pages not yet dry,
But my story is turning out better than I expected.

So look for my painting on your wall,
And my book in hard cover.

Soon I will be on display for all to see,
But not for long because you cant buy me.