Life is like a painting,
With lots of colors and hues.
The bits and pieces that float aloof,
The brush of time to stitch things loose.
Like the strokes from the painters brush,
Nothing makes much sense now
But when we step back and look at the finished painting,
We cant stop wondering how.
The shades of colors, the variety of moods
The sad days and the pastel greys and blues,
Each stroke from the painters brush,
Reminds me that life is what I choose.
An empty mind and an empty canvas,
are one in the way I see
Like the painters brush doing the magic,
I will color my life the way I want it to be!
He starts musing every now and then,
to check the painting against his painted mind.
He chuckles looking at the painting, unfinished
For only he knows the beauty that's hidden behind.