beauty, dream, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, poetry

Beauty

The Mirrors and the Reflections,
this fresh breeze and the sunlight,
these inanimate realities
and their oxymoronic existence
amazes the child within me.

I am not a painter,
I am just a man
with a taste for colors.

I delve into them,
till the hues whisper words
that fly like butterflies.

I am not a lepidopterist(butterfly scientist)
I am just a man
with a thirst for writing.

I collect and nurture them,
till they look like a beautiful painting
made out of unseen words.

I am not a poet,
I am just a man,
with a love for beauty.

I just let the beauty flow,
like the never-ending seas
for purposes unknown.

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