A Perfect Piece
A Perfect Piece
I weave myself up,
The pieces might fit in somewhere…
I’m thinking of a masterpiece,
And put my favourite colours to test…
There are a tempest of thoughts,
The poignancy of feelings,
Words unsaid, unwritten
How do I portray them?
A perfect piece,
Without the messiness
Is like poetry,
Missing the poet…
A perfect piece is a delusion
We all want to live in,
But, the rough draft of my sketch
Would be my actual masterpiece…
So I pick up my palette & brushes
Nidhi
