Once,
A girl
Who's name
Was painted in the stars
Picked up a paintbrush.
Her eyes,
Oh how they glimmered,
Shone.
Paint was given,
And paper traded,
Her heart and soul
Embedded in her paintings.
Such a joy
whispered the neighbors
What a relief
Answered her parents
For they once were worried with grief
That she will not live up to her name
Although
Paintbrushes shaped her life
She began longing
With grief and strife
She wished for a person
Who shared her likes
But
Life is not that giving
And we are not all that receiving.
YOU ARE READING
Poems for a Rainy Day
ŞiirSome people stock up on pennies for rainy days: I stock up on small poems. Just a few random poems that I create when I am bored. For the best experience (if you even have a good experience), I would recommend reading each line by itself. Thanks fo...
