I walked up to the university's doors;
a dome of history stared at me, as if
daring to say question my beauty.
Stairs spiraled around me with
crafted handrails and wood glazed
with designs. I was in awe at the
new world around me; it was as if
I took a step back into the timeline
of humans.
The moment I entered the art room,
a gasp escaped my lips as I saw the
millions of creations created underneath
one roof. How can I compare to these
masterpieces? How can I compare to
the world around me?
How can I compare?
YOU ARE READING
shades of red
Poetrywhen you have too many thorns, all you can do is paint them in red, because, maybe then, they will look like petals [sequel to shades of blue]
