Colouring in is a bane for your eyes.
It ruins your posture as well.
Bent like a seahorse that battles the rise
And fall of an ocean swell,
Numb like a cushion of needles and pins,
You sit in a trance-like state,
Practising mindfulness till it begins
To pad you with extra weight.
Going outside of the lines is not on,
Unthinkable if you did:
Funny how fast your composure's gone -
You're worse than a little kid.
Chores are abandoned. Your house is a mess,
With pencils in giant piles.
Picture one thousand fails to impress
But brings you some kindly smiles.
Mindfulness can be surprisingly tough
(Just look at your weary kin),
But who, if not you, can save all the stuff
That waits to be coloured in?
No better time to begin.
mindfulness
© Copyright: Людмила Прасад, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124030703467
Свидетельство о публикации №124030703467
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