The young artist.

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
There was something i did not understand until now ,where were all my painting tool gone .I've searched for days,weeks but as month went by i quit the research.

It's a poem about painting ,never underestimate others they might surprise you .

Submitted: January 16, 2012

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Submitted: January 16, 2012

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Can you give me some  page Mom !

what for?

I want to draw something .I looked at him standing by my side with the eyes fill with passion for his new hobby .

Please he said to me ,this will be the last time i  am asking for papers .I looked at the pile of paper on the table and took some of it and gave it to him .

Thanks mom he said running to his room to search for some pencils .He began to draw as thesilence  fill the whole house .

After long hours of painting he came back  and show me  his chef -d'oeuvre  proudly .

See mama ,i have made this for you,what do you think of it ?

I took the page and when i looked at it over and over again.I was  speechless.

I kneel down to him and kiss him on his forehead .

He smiled back to me and finally  say  :you can keep it for you ,i will draw another one for Dad and give it to him when he comes back from work.

Okay i whispered watching him running back to his room.

This was the first time i gave him some papers and when he brought it back to me it was full of colour and exactly how it should be .

I mean just the kind of painting that a five year old boy would draw.

I saw INNONCENCE  .


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