A myriad of colours make up our life;
A composite for every emotion.
Sombre shades for darker times;
Vivacious tones for love and devotion.
Every piece tells a different story;
No two fragments are the same,
But fit them together in harmony,
Builds the picture of an eternal flame.
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Busy mummy who loves to read to my children. Will write about anything
If I was a fruit I would be a watermelon. Hard on the outside. Inside so mellow. The green on the outside will be my cover. For the inside color I will save for my lover.
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Do I look like a book. Can you read me like a book. Then why do you only look at my cover. Don't judge a book by its cover.
There's a miracle in you, A twisting of what's normal, An unreasoning non-logic, A little heathen magic.
Little bird, what do you crave. Do you wish to see my grave. I'll show you my death if you want. As I layd dying in a colorful pond. Has your little head spun loose, In my luck, making me your muse.
I replaced tv with poetry and ended up here I replaced reality with stories and never shed a tear I replaced normal with strange and found my calling I replaced dull with exciting and now i'm...
Why paint the sky a dreary grey When it could be bright red. Why prey to the clouds with fickle thoughts When you could fly instead.
In crystallised dreams, sparkling seams, Holding them for a lifetime longing to be seen.
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