paint our souls

what if our soul is a blank canvas,

every heartbreak is a red streak,
a moment of joy is inked in golden dot

sadness and misery are long black cracks,
yet the recovery of pain is lined with silver

hope,
hope will be a little pale white orb

always there,
blending in with the soul
faltering, wavering
but nevertheless alive in silence

and how

i wonder,
how would we look like

in our canvas,
with these memories

of pain and joy
etched so deeply

into our soul