I see

The little boy

Drowning

As he walks

Further in

The ominous lake

Where piranhas

Are swimming

My paint brushes

Stroke shades

Of black against

The canvas

As I see

Him return

5 times a day

To the fog

Could it be

He has found

Happiness

In this illusion

Could it be

If I follow

Him

I too

Will become

Delusional

When the clock

Strikes the time

For him to come

I follow

And into the

Fog

I see a garden

A haven

Of lilies

A scene with

Colors that

My paint palette

Can’t resemble

Looking back

In a toothy

Smile

The little boy

Hands me

New colors

A paint palette

With so much potential