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.

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