drawing life on Canvas

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They say world is only beautiful, as many colors you let yourself see

So I am drawing on my canvas, a start

To my beautiful story.


My brushes are dry, my hands are rigid

My strokes tremble, at times, all I can put down is,

blotches of dark and brown fillers in it

Colors fade, I worry..did I make my emulsion too thin?

Added a little yellow to my beautiful sky blue

But my sun starts to shine green


Life looks bleak, now and then, dosen’t it?

like this dull canvas I cannot add color to

I sit down and try to imagine my picture perfect scene

Then rampage on myself

for my inability to make people, see it through


A tear escapes, I wonder where it came from

I stare at my canvas…it barely looks like the one I thought of

How can one see the insides of a person that he/she cannot potray?

Not everyone were born skilled with brushes and

eyes keen to read the blotches on the paint.


Yet, colors will be, forever beautiful to me

Painted with meticulous details on those blank clothes,

someday I hope to find my stories.

Each strokes that has lost their way and fell into silence,

will only then fulfill their purpose

to guide their way to ‘a Nirvana’ that i had dreamt, all along.




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