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nahuhumalingPoems
once upon a time there was a boy who loved art the kind of love that doesn't die the kind that doesn't fall apart he walks inside a museum this is how his day will start he will look at every painting as if the colors have taken his heart every time he sees its beauty his eyes will shimmer bright but every time he leaves it will be his own starry night the boy has his favorite painting the boy has his favorite poem there is nothing else in this world that he would rather call home just like museum artworks he can only see, but not touch the boy would dream of having a glimpse of your brilliance but having you would be too much once upon a time this little boy wrote a poem helplessly hoping that strings of words would keep his bleeding heart sewn he could never come near he can only linger in your light he can never this beautiful mixture of colors that puts up rainbows in his world of black and white because the painting was a girl a girl that never knew so through a poem, he said "the little boy was me and that beautiful artwork haa always been you"
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Oct 25, 2016
Oct 25, 2016 at 9:12 AM UTC
the boy who loved art
once upon a time there was a boy who loved art the kind of love that doesn't die the kind that doesn't fall apart he walks inside a museum this is how his day will start he will look at every painting as if the colors have taken his heart every time he sees its beauty his eyes will shimmer bright but every time he leaves it will be his own starry night the boy has his favorite painting the boy has his favorite poem there is nothing else in this world that he would rather call home just like museum artworks he can only see, but not touch the boy would dream of having a glimpse of your brilliance but having you would be too much once upon a time this little boy wrote a poem helplessly hoping that strings of words would keep his bleeding heart sewn he could never come near he can only linger in your light he can never this beautiful mixture of colors that puts up rainbows in his world of black and white because the painting was a girl a girl that never knew so through a poem, he said "the little boy was me and that beautiful artwork haa always been you"
nahuhumaling
Written by
nahuhumaling
Manila
Oct 25, 2016
Oct 25, 2016 at 9:12 AM UTC
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