Canvass

I was white. With insights and secrets dark as night. I entered the scene without discerning the possible dirt that'll be splashed on my face. Stepped in without using my best foot, tried to sneaked in hoping not to get noticed. Yet I was pushed towards the middle. With extremities tugging me in different directions. But I cannot easily be moved. Nor torn apart.

Then I met souls same as mine. Who, I believed, has goodness within. Lost souls, brave souls, hoping souls, bad souls, fighting souls, determined souls, so on and so forth. I've actually met too many souls that in the long run, I started to question the realness and the truthfulness of them. 

I tried to rise up and get away from the crowd where I was used, deceived, led on; from the crowd where I had a fair share of evilness, of hurting people, misleading them, dropping them when they fall.

And as I seek for escape and solitude, I see my self stained with mud. Of blood from hearts I've broken. Of shattered egos from the foul and humiliating words I've uttered. With tears. With products of sweat, sex, and drools. And I have never felt disgusted and pitiful with the part left of me. 

For I've seen evil. That I let the little goodness in me be consumed by it. That I was influenced by the flow of  immorality and have those in my way get crushed.

And the innocence that I used to have can no longer be seen at that white piece of canvass.

Labels: , , , , ,