they draw lines on their faces, getting ink from the heat
pictures in their heads of beautifully crafted piece,
of babies and smiles, of the moon and the stars,
then they see the splash of the yellow sun,
telling them - this is life, an art indeed.
but they know the sun won't come out one day,
a gorgeous glow will fill up the space instead.
a promise for the real ones, not of from canvas,
scents of laughter taking over the colors and spread,
really enchanting, enthralling, an unimaginable really.
and i wish they, you, we, will get there someday.
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