Requiem For A Paint Brush

Little Paint Brush, so soft and hairy,

You've dripped so much on me I glow like a fairy.

Spreading paint so smoothly upon the walls,

The end result is really worth it all.

Dipping in all kinds of paint colors,

Up and down, back and forth showing up paint rollers.

But alas, when washing again to get you clean,

Your bristles still have the remains of paint sheen.

Where green is now white and cream looks like black,

Spreading new paint comes out so bad that I'm taken aback!

The swirls are not good, the paint blends are off color,

Now the walls look like some kind of horror.

You've labored hard and I've been your fan,

But now it's the end for you and time for the trash can.

I'll miss you, my friend, and remember your feel,

But I'm still trying to get  all the paint off my heel.

A good job you've done and I'll always be proud,

Of the way you made our house stand out from the crowd.

So sleep well my friend, in well deserved paint brush heaven,

You've done the work of any other seven.


PS:  Yes, I think I've inhaled too many paint fumes. 

Good thing I'm not driving the Journey... :c)