"The beholder sees the beauty"
Or some says it to be
It's just like a painting
It depends on what you see
You have your own canvas
With a single brush on your hand
A thousand colors are out there
It's your choice if you'll paint with bland
The world is your paper
Your decisions are your paint
Let them all be the critic
And do not show restraint
It all depends on the pigments
You put in in that palette
They're the things you'll paint with
To make a life you won't regret
YOU ARE READING
Fall
PoetryAlternative title: Autumn Melancholic thoughts, twisted dimensions, and fallen colors Summer, Autumn, Winter, and Spring. This story tells about memories in autumn. As a season changes, there comes another one. The contents of this book are purely p...
