The Canvas

Trapped in a white box we are

With magical paint on our hands

Paint and shape whoever we are

With time slipping like sand

It's a mirror to reflect

And a canvas to perfect

It's clay to sculpt

With colors that melt

What's made can't be erased

Multitude of faces to be fazed

Its our story, and will be

For it one day will be history

With each step we take

There's another canvas to paint

With each second we waste

There is more at stake

The only fear that must remain

Is to keep away from your own pain

For the canvas and the clay

Won't wait for us to make them stay

~k~

3rd July, 2012