I see him everyday

With his hair tied up back

Some strands falling on his face

He is beautiful

The silence and depth in his eyes

Would echo in my head

His lips free from lines

Smooth as a rose petal

But his hands are used to it

Surrounded by brushes and pencils

Sketchpad lay in his lap

And he would show emotion out of it

He paints beauty

He paints pain

He paints joy

He paints anger

But you would never see it in his face

But a smile etched on

Whenever his heart feels

Satisfied with his creation