... When one's imagination runs wild, It paints the world differently in their eyes, In hues, others are not able to see, Unless they pour them down in words like pearls, One by one making a necklace, Or dance their brushes across a canvas, Like the shoes of a ballerina, Drawing patterns in a ballet, Though it is never the same. 'Cus it's nonsensical to practical human beings, Too queer to hardened hearts, Too much for a society, They never felt they belonged to. Often in nature, they find themselves, In themselves, they find the Universe, And those who have the most nonsensical hearts of all, they become the wildest poets or masters of paints! www.pinterest.com
I love writing. It blows me life : )