They all looked at the painting

Up on the wall……

How fascinating…

She is for this old age

I hear them say……

The combination of the colours

The red and the blue

Yellow and green

They comment on the brightness

Where she should improve

Where the mixture had gone wrong…

All those important men who knows

The art of painting

They all look at her painting

Up on the wall….

I see an old man

An ordinary man unimportant…

Staring at the painting

He is nobody I can see that

He keeps on looking hours pass by

But he does not move

Keep on looking at the painting above

Tears poured down….those weary eyes

I wonder what he cries for

The brightness of the image

No and not the colours used

The mixture does not matter

He is an ordinary man

No he is extra ordinary…….

I felt so when I saw her looking at him…

Her old weary eyes wet with tears..

He slowly touches the painting

Still the fingers tremble..

He looks at it and he understands

He understands the painting

The deeper meaning…..

Like it was painted just for him

He understands…..

More than the “men who know’

I wonder why he cries

I wonder what he sees

I wonder why she cries….

A story unspoken is hidden

Hidden form the world

In this painting on the wall….