the voice of colours
Filling the naked slate of white paper,
a paintbrush as a pump.
Imperfectly, yet perfectly
covering the smooth surface with
delicate strokes
from the bristles of the animals.
The passion,
sucking
the dullness of impurity
now portraying the five senses of
the world.
One paintbrush of creation, but
a mixture of never-ending colours
to enhance the masterpiece.
The simplicity of the paintbrush is
the voice of colours
and oh,
how it loves to dance.
This poem is about:
Me