Paint— Day Seven of NaPoWriMo

I’m five years old
And my walls are blank
When with pens and crayons
I choose to fix that.
With doodles of dinos
And portraits of hens
I’d call myself an artist
If you’d asked me back then.

I’m ten years old
And my walls are a mess
Though I’m told that
If we paint over them
There’ll be no way for
Anybody to tell.
It’s a great idea
And I’m all on board;
I’d like to paint my room
In all the colours of a rainbow

I’m fifteen years old
And I guess I’ve messed up
The paint on my walls
Has started to fade out
It doesn’t end there;
Something’s gone wrong:
Outside my window,
The colours have run out.
(I swear I didn’t mean
To paint the world grey;
The colours simply faded away)

I’m twenty years old
And the world is still dull
Once the colours disappeared,
They never returned.
But I’ve painted a smile
Across my lips
And brushed away the tears
That threatened to slip;
After all, there’s nothing
A bit of paint can’t fix.

— Written by Naintara Singh for MTTN

— Featured Image by Arvin Das

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