Dull

She is roaming the earth like dull being

Holding a set of beautiful colors

Paints, roams, creates, and then at the end... destroys

Between her fingers, she holds the wooden brush

Appearing on the wood of the brush, are stories that are almost legendary !

She starts from the bright side of the paper, to draw a circle and proudly call it "the Sun"

For what seems like eternity, she plays with colors

Here is the sun, there are some trees, sweet little houses...etc

The painting is marvelous

The colors look almost real

Why then does her heart appear crying, confused and lost in the painting, in an eternal darkness?

Who is this being that she painted under her tree of pure love?

She hates the painting, destroys it and throws it away

To the dustbin filled with thousand of other paintings

She goes back to her painting tools

She brings another brush

Perhaps it's the brush

Perhaps it's the type of paper

And here she painted forever

Painted on the eternal question of "perhaps"