My every thought is not a poem

My every random thought is not a poem

If paint spills across the floor

does that floor become a painting?

That is all my thought are

A mere spill

A mess to be cleaned up

My every random thought is not a poem

I scold myself

I’m not creating art every minute

I’m not thinking in some special way

My thoughts are all paints

Every imaginable color

But when they get swished around in my head

They mix and turn to muck

Not worth putting on paper

My every random though is not a poem

But maybe

Maybe someday

One of them will be a masterpeice

                        ~ amanda fozzy 12-21-21

I got the idea for this from a different poem but I can’t seem to find it to link too it

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/rmjl0x/aunts_couch_after_a_party/hpn5pnb/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf&context=3

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/rmhq1n/ceramic_palace/hpn60fc/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app&utm_name=iossmf&context=3