The Painted Spectacles

The morning sunlight flooded into the room, From far away a cuckoo could be heard - Heralding the advent of spring When flowers would bloom. The sky was a bright blue, The fields were lush green, And the colourful houses All of varied hues. At one corner of the room lay - A pair of "Painted" Spectacles, In the shadow of an almirah Throughout the day. Oh! What a thing are the Painted Spectacles! When the sky looks gloomy, it seems so blue, When the fields are barren, they look green Really, they cause such miracles! However, life is not SUCH a spectacle - It is instead the decision whether, We want them or not, Whether, we want to get rid of our obstacles. And then comes a time, When life is pulled away from life; And we, reduced to certain despair - Life becomes nothing but grime. So, although the jolly day inflicted no pain, But the mind could not find any hope; At a corner, the Painted Spectacles lay, Perhaps never to be put on again.