When the world around celebrated with colours,
I had a chat with the girl in my mirror.
"The golden cat is my only companion," she said,
"I wonder how the world outside my window looks".

She narrated about how she wished to see,
The world through a pair of rose-tinted glasses,
And about how her heart beat beneath the stars,
To the sound of laughter and rejoice in the distance.

To the outside world, she was like tiny flowers,
Scattered across the branches like snowflakes.
A fragile new life,
That could shatter at a single touch.

But to me, she was the girl with the universe in a shoebox,
Who saw through the mask of those who spoke to her.
The girl who saw things differently,
The girl with an introverted soul in the extroverted world.