Realization 

Yesterday, I stole a song from a lass. 

And I realized 

why one of my old friends had stolen my painting last year. 

5 years ago. On an evening tea, 

She said, “I don’t like paintings.” 

Why?!! I asked curiously. 

“It’s boring to watch a painting. 

They are not real. It’s still.” she replied. 

I said, “Yeah, every painting is still, 

But there is always a factor that gives life to the painting.” 

“Anyway, they are fake. 

I am tired of watching artificiality.” She said desperately. 

A moment of silence. 

My mind whispered, 

“Yeah, every painting is a reflection of something, 

Hope, one day she will find herself that door.” 

Beautiful things should be discovered unforeseeably. 

After her robbery, 

I cursed her for a whole year. 

But didn’t try to understand her. 

I feel sorry for her now.