on a broken canvas did she paint
her finest art.
they're shaded with a pallete of affection.
golden is the joy
gray is for the lost.
do you know what makes a woman see red?
The Act Of Carelessness.
arts could be as beautiful as sunsets
or a disaster after hurricanes.
wise men, they sensed a change in colors.
and wise men
they don't run.
YOU ARE READING
The Wanderer
PoetrySomewhere in between times, there are souls wander around to find something to believe in. Something to hope for.
