A paper and a pencil produces a colourless image,
Adding colours are option to it.
You can be the image and the colour.
But it all depends on how you're used.
Colours are alluring.
To get the perfect match,
One has to value their brain.
So, am I brainless? Or the one used me is?
Does that mean the image is a slave?
No! Images are the panorama of your life.
Coloring it, shades you.
Yin or Yang, it shapes you.
It may be awful,
That doesn't mean I'm equal to the foundation,
Beauty is from the inner not from the exterior.
Colours are the make up for your image.
Searching the perfect one is a waste.
Grab the colours which flies to you,
Fill in with the one you love.
And walk on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An absolutely lovely poem, Taasvinie