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in every strokes ...

In every pencil that
I have used to draw lines,
with different colors and
with a different hue, 
different it may be but
what a beautiful
combination they are
when together in one.

In every watercolor
I have used to draw,
when I was young.
The canvas got messy and
looks useless.
When they dried up
they come alive, and
it becomes a new life.

In every brush strokes of
colors that touch my life.
It made me laugh,
it made me cry,
it even made me mad but
I am thankful for touching
my life at least I know
I'm still alive.

In every charcoal, I've tried,
all I did was to mess
things up on a canvas,
but my sister told me
to keep trying.
I tried and tried but
I think I have to stop now.
I'm tired.



This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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