She was a painter
She never knew
Fake smiles were her colors
Pains were her shades
With brushes of mixed emotions
She painted herself…
She was a canvas
Waiting for random strokes
Of her favorite colors;
Scarlet and blue
She closed her eyes
And dipped the brush
Yes, she believed in luck
But everyday
She painted herself grey…
You may see her
As an abstract painting
Difficult to be understood
You’re wrong
You only saw the blurred edges
Never tried to identify the colors…
She is the painting
Clear indeed
Herself she has painted,
Framed
And has never shown
Hidden somewhere in endless bliss
Far from all you’ve ever known…