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Before I Broke My Palette

By Prateek Nayak


I was never good at drawing,
All I did was paint, indeed colors spoke louder than lines.
Lines were bold and dark, strokes did out-spark,
But low I felt cause not so bold were my steps.
Choosing colors was a decision too wise,
 I had a color for every emotion inside.

Memories of line still haunted my brush,
What is the shades made color fade ?
But I carried...

Colorful, beautiful were the words that graced them.
Its time the world too applaud them.
I showcased my colors, my paints.
Oh yes ! They applauded in the same, but words do faint.
Sooner, I realized not many like all the colors.
Infectious are thoughts and biased became my shots.

I  chose colors but with perceptions,
Thoughts overpowered emotions.
As biased as I was ever, choice became a thought process forever.
Started loosing the colors,the trust they had over my brush.
And so I started loosing my touch.

Lines haunted, brush bore the face black painted. 
Colors provided a dirty picture, messed up it all felt. 
No more beautiful were the paints, in horror I  threw the palette over paine. 
The broken palette and the ill paints always make me say... 

I was never good at drawing or imitating things.
 All I did was paint and make things colorful, before i broke my palette !
Before i broke my palette....

 

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Let The Good Times Roll Magazine is an online youth magazine
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