When the world goes perspective,
Life starts gaining the loss of identity.
White turns black, Red turns pink,
Childhood strokes become confusing.
Doubtful fingers fidget to express their heart.
Frustration creeps in, agitation swells up,
Till the memories desperately claw on conventions.
The fingers, doubtful still, seize the childish crayon...
Superficial canvas brims with hues,
A flight to the known world.