Am that white pencil which thrown away
Out of the color box thinking it be useless

Without caring about my feelings with such a carelessness you made me feel what being odd one out feels..

That white pencil,
about whom nobody cared...
It was just kept in that pocket of bag which uses to keep sharpen pencil's gleam

All the colors were in the sketch
All the drawings on the white canvas,
Looking beautifully alluring and attractive..

Then, one day life turned up into a black canvas..
Those who that threw white pencil ran for it and found it between the roska,
That white pencil,
Drew moon, stars, glimmers, highlighted each sketch over it and that's when they knew how useful that color was in that dark phase.

-vaneeza


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