the artist of your own life

Daily life of an artist starts freshly

As that person sits in front of a white paper.

Blank. Empty.

To that white, colors are filled.




A lot more from those.

Each and every color gives that paper a joy

Like that of a static object brought to life

As it feels like living forever.


The artist had his task done.

That paper seems to be cheerful

“Surely, this is going to be a nice one!”

As the artist expresses a loud, meaningful sigh


The art went appreciated by the people

In front of the people’s two eyes, it went

To the photograph inside phones, it went.

Its fame is temporary

And worth a while


Until the dawn come to its life

The colors on that paper starts to get dark

Death flags surrounded it.

Life to it has already ended

Being as empty as its start.


Such is life of a human

Infant days start with a cry shouting nothingness

Then that human grows to a bright kid

Creating bright colors

Red of bravery. Yellow of hopes.

Green of health. Blue of calmness.

Nothing was wrong

The human was loved by everyone.


Time was cruel to move too fast

Those days of innocence are gone

That kid is now almost an adult.


They are all changing

Deep, dark, sorrow.

Red; Anger. Yellow; Hopeless.

Green; Jealousy. Blue; Depressions.

Everything is wrong

Still, that adult lives silently.


Then come the days of dawn

They are all faded

As meaningless as the beginning

The human, cries silently waiting for death.


Life is really a journey

To find all this colors

That will make you treasure yourself

Even when there are times

That despair haunts you.


You decide your colors, you are the artist.





19. Male. Malaysian. I made trash, and as the saying goes.. "One's man trash is another man's treasure." Also, I like vending machines. ?
Posts created 76

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