DRAWING

I drew a picture on paper.
It never had a name,
But it had a face.
It had meaning,
till I realised,
it’s the only picture I could draw well.
I drew it when I was happy,
when I was jealous,
when I found a memory.
and lost a race.

But one day,
I drew a flower.
I coloured a star.
I knew how to draw a volcano.
It had names,
and faces.
and no meaning.
Till I realised,
I don’t remember the picture I used to draw well.