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This Is Not A Family

This Is Not A Family

1 min
290


I was trying to paint

A picture perfect image

Of a family

With water colours

Under the rain. 


Papa ploughing the field, 

Playing catch catch

With the child

On the meadow

Mama standing by, at ease as she be

Affectionately holding the baby. 

Watching as witness

Is the magical, miraculous sky. 


My brush

Relentless and stubborn

Looking for the sun

Under the weeping sky, 

Painting to fade

On the patient page. 


The off-white leaf smirked

Wide and wild

Winked at the brush;

Determined, under no rush

The page dried

The sun showed, 

Painter was cold

His hands couldn't hold

The three faded from the mind;

In time, the picture of their bonding

Went haywire, missing. 


Blades disenchanted, disunited, 

Still tried, 

Colours hard as rocks

Now, refusing to melt

Somehow, 

Uselessly lied. 


A picture of a family 

Painted under the rain, surfaced

Like a boat that sailed afloat

The sun smiled. 

This is not a family,

Underneath the painting

The painter wrote. 


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