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ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴄᴀɴᴠᴀꜱꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ,,
I never liked the colour midnight blue,
but I liked him,
and he loved the colour midnight blue,
so when he fell for someone else,
I patiently waited,
but the love never ended,
there was nothing to wait for,
so here I lay my curves and edges,
in a paddle,
being pressured down by the water,
but I'm surrounded by midnight blue,
and doesn't that mean he loves me too?
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YOU ARE READING
HIS CANVASS | ᵖᵒᵉᵗʳʸ
Poésie"on his canvass he expressed his sorrow, his burden and his horror" ＃119 in poetry ＃42 in poesia
