tried hard to paint
the canvas of my life
using the bright colors
in spontaneous strokes
but it rained so hard
outside where i watch
the view of things
to come
rain like tears
erased the picture of
myself
of what i chose
to be
those brighter colors
but it does not really matter
i still like
pastel, or the darker
ones, blue and black.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem