Dream of a Vivid Canvas
And our colorless teardrops
Inside this curvy edgy world, we live in
besides, the white cloud-covered blue sky
with the glaring flare of sunny side mornings
and kaleidoscope graced, diversity-embraced society
where our rooted norms
raise unpleasant questions of reshaping our evolutionary form,
our blossomed social experiences
matter to shape a form of picture-perfect avatars of the world
and humans, where a blank canvas illustrates
vivid color palettes to shade on
our warmer voice inside asks us to wake up
indicating the distractions that converted into a social dilemma
showcasing Instagram featured fakeness, forming
our mental image, on digitally in tracked pathways.
flourishing tangerine, in the fruits of freedom,
painful exposures gradually lost the spectrum of broken dreams
gathers inside our secret dens of solitude
in saturated red, soulful chakras to maintain,
and we get stabbed behind
the spoken philosophy of diversions and differences
some colors are better than others,
some lustful orientation are more colorful in purified divinity,
black is dark, emits negativity
all whites are bad
lives matter, which ones,
only our prayers are better and reach to God/s,
era by era, our engulfed promises roar in nonfulfillment
sucks around the feet of the people
controlling the world from behind
while rationing the living breath of the general,
nature says it real
embrace the simplicity, sync with green,
while the red fluids circulating inside our veins
we live, inhale and breathe to the mortal world
clasp the beauty that's in front
soaking the color, it presents
not the worst deal to take,
my colorless tears drop in a deep painful cry,
while my soul wishes for a better tomorrow
with a lively visual with true, colorful minds.
About the Creator
Suntonu Bhadra
Travel storyteller, photographer, history enthusiast, poetic scribbler ▪ Editor of Paper Poetry ▪ I have started writing on Vocal recently.
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