I once painted in colours brightI loved the World with all my mightI took photosstill do sometimes …I studied artist all round the globeThis was my passionNot just a fashionCreationBut now my tears are fallingThere is a mistI don’t like this…I’d sooner be kissedWith the colours that fed my soulAnd gave my goalA purpose …And now poetry is filling my mindAs each morning I findMy mist grows greaterThe colours are failingWhere once I had a paint brush in handNow I am wailingAnd ask the powers that beThe same old question“Why me?”What purpose is this tiresome road I tredSo difficult and surrealIs there new dreams to be fedAs I ponder for a whileReally is this the deal?Where once colours were blendedAnd to my true feelingsNo one really tended…I sit here aloneIn this dreadful timewhere my sight defies toNo longer be mineWhilst those around me fuss argue and botherIn their little words with their own cute wonderI say “yes of course I’m fine”“I always am and always will be”“I’ll get you a cuppa tea,oh sorry you’ve had a bad day”“Oh me, have troubles … no way!”“So… how many sugars do you have in your tea?”“So sit down and watch the world go round with me….”“I’m fine…
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