In my monochrome world,
The colors are just a shade of black and white.
Nothing is there, there is nothing.
Like a dull plate with crooked spoons and forks, uninteresting.
As the creator,
I desired so much more.
To no avail,
I am unable to do so.
Repetitive like a ticking clock,
A heart that hopes for changes; a revival.
Beyond my limitations, I crave.
To make me feel something like colors tangible again.
YOU ARE READING
My Solace
PoetryA mixture of unsaid thoughts and emotions, where no one could hear but everyone can see.
