The Yellow Shoes

Lines, letters, nonsense scribbling.

A taste of that ink, I let it spill.

I want to give it a try, write our story,

But all it had was a dead-end start—you and me.

 

Browsing pictures, reminiscing what was lost,

Trying to find that ‘picture-perfect’ thoughts.

The one to tell what could have been our story,

But all it had was a blurred vision—you and me.

 

Turned the radio on, played weary songs

Trying to find a melody for these lyrics written so long.

I want a perfect song so I could sing our story,

But all I heard was a hum, a shallow beat—you and me.

 

Painted a smile, a frown, and a mountain high,

Tried to draw the sunset, then took a deep sigh.

I want to create a masterpiece for our story,

But all it had was a novice sketch—you and me.

 

Had my eyes closed, then gently I opened them.

Gazing at darkness and light, it’s almost the same.

I was trying to see through night and day in our story,

But all it had was a faint dawn—you and me.

 

Now I took my yellow shoes, stared at it too long.

These you’ve given me, would you tie my shoelaces once more?

It was the perfect word, picture, song, masterpiece—our story.

It had all the smile, pain, fear and mirth—you and me.

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