coloured across the canvas
onto tapestry.
And our Wall,
was filled with colours.
The lectures poured in,
like soldiers from Calvary.
But no, not a worry,
not a breeze,
and not a storm
would brew.
But the delicate
leaves in the pot,
awaiting tea.
Life was a combination,
of little wonders
like a painted mosiac piece.
For in the life of a child,
we did not understand
the complicated, but we
understood, the beauty,
of life.
like soldiers from Calvary.
But no, not a worry,
not a breeze,
and not a storm
would brew.
But the delicate
leaves in the pot,
awaiting tea.
Life was a combination,
of little wonders
like a painted mosiac piece.
For in the life of a child,
we did not understand
the complicated, but we
understood, the beauty,
of life.
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