Colossal canvas of life,
Painter I am; making strokes in hues
depicting leisure and labour.
Impressions are deeper,
and colours are darker for the ordeals.
Tender are imprints,
and shades are softer for the balmy days and nights!
Hurts are scars showing here and there,
Gloomy and the despondent are in blues,
Gaudy and the buoyant are in vibrant hues.
Wondering I am lone “has life been in monochrome”
where would poor colours fit in my life-frame?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem