Our life’s on a canvas,So crisp and so white,Endless possibilities,To bring it to light. We sit as painters,Acrylics in hand,Adding colours to the canvas,With the passing of sand. And we look at the colours,The soft hues of pain,All of the colors,That cling to our veins. And we’re bound to fill colors,Put no boundaries at all,But…
Tag: epoch
The grainy monochromatic photograph
A fading red heart on aDusty cover page of anAlbum bound with memories ofPeople holding hands, and ofEyes perhaps happier thanThose staring at them, because, Sepia tones and tattered corners,Black and white and worn out borders,Have eyes that smiled at each other, notThose that smiled at cameras, for Pictures cannot just wait to start, How…