Hours

Sky stretched on the canvas.

So much blue, she is lost.

Specks of happy clouds

Float around like white cotton balls

Just like she used to run around the house

In a pale white frock

On humid summer afternoons.

Afternoons have kept their promise.

They peek in every day

To check up on her

But the girl has all grown up.

Afternoons now

Are dismissed daytimes.

Busy, yet boring;

That time of the day

Everyone wants to get over with.

Evenings arrive with hopes of glamour-

Breezy walks,

Cheery dates.

Playtime for children in the park.

Her playthings are gone, her

Playmates have long forgotten her.

All that is left-

Miles of scrolling the screen

And fear of missing out,

As work piles on.

Sky stretched on the canvas.

So much blue, she is lost.

So much she could've been,

So much she never will.

Time to paint it all afresh

With the hues of night instead.

With strokes of black paint

Strikes the midnight hour.

It's time for dreams.

She can be anything now.