The world was filled with colours in the eyes of the youth.
Even the city night skies where considered a wild array of colours splattered across a blank canvas.
But the canvas of mine was shaded blue. The dark skies, the morning sun. Even when the horizon melted into the orange at dawn and dusk.
Blue was how I saw it all, but what was this how I saw the world.
The paintings would've carefully blended with the ultramarine background fading and setting a scene of sadness. Yet sadness was something I did not understand.
Maybe it had something to do with the day I stopped hearing her voice.
The beautiful girl I didn't know how to feel towards.
Her smile bringing a sense of brightness to all the art of the world. How the colours on the canvas were vibrant around her.
But the day she stopped showing, the day her canvas was empty, the day where the paint dried without use.
My world turned a shade blue.
I still don't understand.
But may the art on the canvas show you what I mean.
I'll show you the world of blue.