As if withered
you sit around the table of silence.
Gem that has no color,
you pass like the time of boredom.
And you are no more than a memory.

Draw me the stars
And I'll write us to the moon
Draw me some tears
I might write you some blues
Colour the roses
From which I write about
Our dreams can be remembered
With pictures and a plot
I'll write what you couldn't
If you draw what I can not

A lost soul I will be,
wondering where to go.
Till I find my luck.
Felted the love around me.
The good vibes surrounding me
and I now it was something from heaven
that give me the strenght, the strongness,
that I need in my life.
I'm grateful and humble for it.
Because it will give me what I needed
to survive.

Do you ever wonder
if the painter
tires of his colors?