POETIC PLAY STUDIO

It was a summer afternoon,

Saw for the first time,

It started and ended with a cup of tea.

He was mysterious like an old cave,

Carved stories all over and painted,

As if it had all his emotions expressed in dark colors.

Colorful, still looked like black and white.

Always looked bit confused and tensed,

Messy in all ways,

Fear and not taking risks,

As if something was holding him.

But he knew how to laugh,to dance,to get lost,to be found.

That eyes never lied.

His eyes were the window to his soul, the only way

He was not perfect but real,

Like an old soul running in the modern era,

He was like a wire ball, tangled in his mess.

Lost in his wonderland,

And like that lost forever.