She was an artist and that too a great one.
He wasn't but to her he was the most beautiful creature,
because on her canvas she couldn't mirror him
and the unreadable emotions which painted his features.
YOU ARE READING
Dead Ends
PoetrySometimes it's not about the end. It's just about the story. A collection of four liners that I wrote which didn't have the oh-so-perfect endings. Well because life doesn't offer each and everyone the fairytale endings they grew up listening to.
