The Painter - Julietta Castro

These walls used to hold me when I cried

Every smack and fall and bang

I traced and drew along each crack and dent

I held my ear to its corners

Listening to the sound of songs we used to sing

And then the painter heard our lullabies

And felt the need to bellow over our quiet melodies

The painter yelled no and stop

Our songs were wrong

Our painted dreams were wrong

And the painter brought in cans of paint

And the painter brought rollers and brushes

And the painter looked at the doorframe

Full of lines and dates and numbers

And the painter covered up our song

But I am a painter too

And I remember the smacks and falls and bangs

And I remember our songs like it was yesterday

I trace them on my own walls the way I still remember

Cracks and dents and all

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Julietta Castro is an English major with a creative writing minor and a psychology minor. She takes great interest in drawing, painting, and writing.