The painting

A tiny little poem ( I mean it) about love, ignorance and regret.
When it comes to poetry, something evacuates the happiness out of me which often leaves me wondering whether it is happiness I seek or sorrow. Well…
Anyway, for now lets just get back to the poem and also my 50th post! (*Self five*)

Advertisements

The brushes drenched in colour,

Playing with jolly rainbows,

Laughing,singing,dancing,

Seemingly so happy,

So adept at concealing what lies beneath,

A broken heart that mourns the absence of the colourless water,

So long he had rebuked,

So many times he had taunted,

For being devoid of hues,

For being way too plain,

And silently she had cried,

Then silently she had left,

And now nobody knows for how long the brush has wept.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s