Naila
You blankly stated,
On which I write my thoughts
Some of them are strong and bold
While others are soft and polite.
You are my canvas,
Landing tall at ten fleeting doves
I splash colored oiled pigments
Here and there and down our halls
You can see it down on our walls.
The brush strokes it on through,
The pigmented oils of
The hair hues of blue
They've painted.
Hair waiving through line after line.
With shade after shade
As if the ink was there.
Copyright © William Darnell Sr | Year Posted 2024
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