Canvas

For some bizarre reason, I have decided to start off with a bit of poetry. Not entirely sure why, since mostly I write fiction, but I like this little blip. In this piece, you will find many structural errors.I really know so little about poetry, so maybe this doesn't even qualify as poetry, but I do like it.  I also wrote this with the intention and idea that it should be read out loud. Thanks for reading. 
*I have no idea why this is highlighted white, or if I'm the only one seeing it that way. I can't figure it out, but I'm posting none the less. 

Canvas

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has past away; behold the new has come.

2 Corinthians 5:17

From the beginning of time it entered our strife and dared us to find the way to life.

The way that would bring good things and good news without being out the sad and lonely hues

that darken our life that should be light and colorful with the paints that are right and bright.

The canvas on which we write that was given to us on the day we were born, but 

from the beginning of time we have torn and ripped to shreds without a thought.

Our one and only canvas we splashed with mud and grime, filth and slime

for we sought the things that are

entertaining but, not sustaining and hoping that we were gaining

the one thing in life that truly mattered but we looked down and on our canvas 

was an ugly splatter. For what in life truly matters? 

Is it the race to fill ourselves with all we can?

To succumb to the  pleasures our flesh demands?

In the end all that brings is nothing, yet it's a trend that we slightly mend then try again.

What is the true meaning of life? A question that has rocked our philosophers time after time.

Some people grow tired of this strenuous climb, looking to find a model to follow.

We have set those who have certain talents on a peristalsis to get an answer that is 'ethical'.

The answer may be different, it maybe noble, but it will always be immoral if you ask the world.

So where do we go? All the doors seem to close, but not

if you look at the path that shows,

a miserable fall, but a promise to top them all and down the line

through all the bad and the good, through a time of guidance then a time of silence.

There came one night, a star shown bright over a lonely and dirty barn.

Where the savior to all people was born and the angles where heard sounding the alarm,

 “This is the day when everything will change! This is the day of our new born Lord!"

But that cried died out and because he was strange and at age 33 he was hanging from a tree.

Dejected and confused his disciples sat wondering and thinking, what can we do?

But then, the angles came reviving a time lost cry that again the Savior was alive.

Nothing was the same, for God has given us the key to our chain.

He first gave us a promise and after it was done he gave us a purpose.

Along with a new canvas he gave us paint and told us to create

A life pleasing to him, not one that please our every whim.

Don’t worry about mistakes for he has an eraser and will take and make the mistake blank

Tell others you have found the answer that they seek;

a second chance to get rid of the bleak and to create something unique

The thing we've always needed was the thing we messed up completely.

He gave us new life and gave it eternally, so take it from me;

This is what we need. This is what you've been searching for.

Cast off you frozen and numb heart and open the door, for He is the Lord.