Poem 1

By Preeti Krishnamani

Life is the conquest to finish a painting.
Colors, bold and feeble, vibrant and mellow, each having a will of their own,
dye my personality a rainbow. 
The colors choose me, I don't choose them.
Painstakingly spattered on the canvas of my psyche,
By paintbrushes making fundamental judgements and impressions as people do.
Some will whisper lines, while others will make splashes and swim across the paper.
As I prepare to make the signatory flourish,
I suddenly realize,
There's no such thing as the finishing touch.
                                                                                                                                                                                  -Daily Dose of Ink

Talking to Teachers

Experimenting with Meaning