Maybe one day I'll find that brush that paints my life black,

I always miss it by an inch as it is interested in my future,

One day I'd find it and i'd break it in half for all the smile I lack,

That one day was today as I saw that brush and all it's suture,

Directly attached to my nose tip, no wonder I couldn't see but in a pond,

And now my wish can' be fulfilled lest I break my nose,

Why is this ill fate being carved by myself to this life I was so fond,

But for now I can't break my nose, as that would be yet another loss.

No one but you paint your world.

Chaahat