The Painter

These hands are all i have
so when you said i had enough
how could i help but fall in love?

Back when you still believed
i could do things i was yet to achieve
back when you were able to see
the man inside i hoped to be

Remember when?
We dreamed of love back then
of painting animals down the small of your back
dreams that in time derailed off track

No one else understands
they claim i left you hurt and tainted
but all they see is these hands
and not the world they could have painted.