(Pic. reference: https://www.pexels.com/photo/a-lawn-graveyard-19783590/)
Childhood as canvas.
Subconscious as a child.
A wound as inception.
A scab as an eternity.
Sunlight for the weeping.
Sunshine for the dead.
Moonlight for the grieving.
Darkness for the unsaid.
Pain as palette.
Heavy heart as a muse.
Tristesse and songs as snacks.
And art as abuse.
Pastel is the denouement.
Lurid is the surprise.
Guitar splotches for the spilled tears.
Piano welts for the reprise.
A moody kaleidoscope spinning
Churning so much and this haze
Hides all the cheers from long ago.
Wipes out the glasses we had raised.
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