The world is often painted shades of gray,
In the dull rhythm of a working day.
The concrete walls are cold and hard and plain,
And sadness falls like steady, gray-toned rain.
But I have worn a pair of magic frames,
To give the shadows bright and glowing names.
Where others see a crack upon the street,
I see a place where moss and magic meet.
The charcoal sky to me is violet ink,
I find a rainbow in the things I think.
It's a choice to see the glitter in the dust,
To find the gold beneath the heavy rust.
My eyes see truth—the sorrow and the grime,
The heavy footsteps of the march of time.
But then my heart decides to paint it new,
In shades of crimson, gold, and electric blue.
Reality is just a sketch, a start,
The colors come from deep within the heart.
I'll keep my tinted lens and dream so wide,
While keeping monochrome reality outside.