Remarked

Painter

There is a painter,

Staring blankly at her canvas,

Sitting like a pro in a stool,

Holding her palette like Van Gogh.

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In her palette there are five colors,

The colors are red, blue, white, black, and scarlet.

She started stroking her brush on the canvas,

Wanna know if where did the colors came from?

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Such a red enthusiast she is,

The red came from her cuts.

Every time she tries to suicide,

She's collecting her pool of bloods.

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Blue like the ocean,

But the blue came from her eyes.

It was the tears she cried up all nights,

It nearly drown her, good thing she's a swimmer.

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Is white really for peace?

But her soul is white,

Pure like the light,

Trying to get her by the above.

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Like her orbs of abyss,

Her eyes are black, also her world.

It is as dull as black,

No colors at all, it's way too boring.

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And oh before I forgot, scarlet is also on her palette.

Like a color of a dry blood,

Dry blood scattered on the house,

A scarlet of a floor they have.

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Oh! The painting is done!

She is so excited to display it.

She knows that everyone will be in awe,

Wanna take a look on it?

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The teacher asked her,

"What is that?"

Then she answered that make everyone gasps and speechless,

"It's my future, I'll see this later when I'll go home."

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Her painting is such a nasty sight!

It is their house,

Filled with blood,

Coming from her families' bodies.

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"Why did you painted this?!"

Her teacher roared.

A tear fell from her eyes before she answered,

"It's because I've dreamt of it last night, and all of my dreams do come true."

(Fin)