A Perfect Piece

I weave myself up,
The pieces might fit in somewhere…

I’m thinking of a masterpiece,
And put my favourite colours to test…

There are a tempest of thoughts,
The poignancy of feelings,
Words unsaid, unwritten
How do I portray them?

A perfect piece,
Without the messiness
Is like poetry,
Missing the poet…

A perfect piece is a delusion
We all want to live in,
But, the rough draft of my sketch
Would be my actual masterpiece…

So I pick up my palette & brushes

Nidhi