Once upon a time
I laid in a bed of disgrace
Running from my demons
That kept perfect pace
No matter how much I ran,
They always won the race.
I sought a way to beat them,
So I gave then a face.
Armed with a brush
Their features I did trace.
Till I trapped them in a portrait.
I put them in their place.
On my wall they hang.
Frozen in time and space.
A monument in acrylic,
To the demons I face.
Evening Poems: Art Therapy
By the Brooke 