You were a pink rose when you were born,
she painted a fairy with a bouquet of pink roses,
but when she smelled a pink rose she cried,
her painting lacked sweet fragrance of a rose
and when the winds waived a branch with the roses,
she cried again, her painting lacked the music
that was created by touch of the naughty winds
a kiss that wasn't seen still its sound was heard.
She decided not to paint anymore
as her painting was far from the realities of life.
But then her sixth sense inspired her for another painting
Saturday, April 22, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: terror