Life is a real picture. So many people are the same color of paint, they fly across the canvas without problems or change. While others are many colors and they represent pain and hardship. They are the ones who make the best pictures. What color would you want to be? Would you be a bland paper or a work of art? And that my friend is up to you to find out.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem