A Preacher’s Picture

He believed he could emblazon
away rationalization
He attempted to draw my thoughts
into fine lines of here and there

He believed, therefore he knows
eternal lectures on life
never stepping beyond bounds
convinced he’s got it right

But I don’t believe in black
furiously bounded by white
I don’t believe his questions
will conceal gray tonight

Instead, I’ll twirl his paintbrush
and color myself, disbelief
The landscape he has painted
screams blatant hypocrisy