My pencil skates a waltz of its own
On a bland white page, deprived of tone.
A legato glide here, a trilling spin there,
A sharp staccato that launches the dancer in the air.
My place of solace is black and white,
But it is far from being plain and dry.
Colors erupt from every line
As my pencil waltzes in the night.
On a bland white page, deprived of tone.
A legato glide here, a trilling spin there,
A sharp staccato that launches the dancer in the air.
My place of solace is black and white,
But it is far from being plain and dry.
Colors erupt from every line
As my pencil waltzes in the night.
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