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Oct 2018
I made a painting.
One of the future.

My brush was sure
my strokes, deliberate.

I had chosen colours loud
I had chosen them fearlessly.

Think I’ve completed my painting.
And I hate it.
ryn
Written by
ryn  πŸ‡ΈπŸ‡¬
(πŸ‡ΈπŸ‡¬)   
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