Paint-by-Number World

Outside my window, pine trees
stand tall under gold sunlight.
March winds bring growing pains. I
listen but can't hear their screams.

My window panes are distressed
by winter's murky vision
of gray frost marring the glass.
My eyes see through its filter.

These paint-stained fingers tremble.
I want to color your world
in rich Tuscan tones of clay.
You deserve a wealth of hues.

The pines scream and I falter.
Behind beauty lives utter pain.
I can't create perfection,
because there is none in love.

I'll give you the best of me;
lavender and ocean blue...
if that doesn't satisfy,
I'll paint your world by numbers.