Staring at the canvas,

How can we fill it?

Glaring the pallet,

The paints sit still.

A breath in,

eyes closed.

Picking up the paintbrush,

Now no turning back.

The beauty of the darkness hypnotizes,

Captures one as if a trick.

Its lighter shades contrast the elegance,

Stating boldness and strength.

The paintbrush curves the rainbow,

With love and life in each stroke.

Dazzling dyes fill in the canvas,

A pure picture of dear diversity—

Not a smudge on the painting,

Except for one.

That one smudge,

Kept poisoning the pleasure.

Sometimes it grew,

As if a blot rubbed on—

But the colours were always

There to heal the sight.

S. Mysha Urooj, Amity International School, Noida


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