A simple person standing there.

A simple person, a simple stare.


No oddities or quirks.

No achievements nor ingenious works. 


A grey suit, grey tie.

Grey socks, knee high.


Red flashes of satin sashes.

A fragment of life in a field of ashes.


A whisper here, a smile there.

She has broke the endless stare.


Her name, imagination.

Her goal, transformation.


Her warmth has melted the frozen frown.

Her presence lifts up the man, once down.


“Be free” she whispers subtly. 

“Embrace imagination and live, happily”.


Grey to blue and grey to red.

Color filled the man, once dead.


The absent stares fade.

A loving gaze instead was made.


A tiny spark of imagination

An everlasting mark





2 thoughts on “Transformation

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