Which color is good, I wonder
Drawing and erasing
I, who am still choosing
Am still faintly fragile
Only casting shadows on the touched page
It won't fit in anyway
It's a blue palette
People passing by point and laugh
I'm gradually getting fed up
Aren't I just always scared of something?
Forgotten things come to mind, more than I can count
I gather lost things as if clinging to them
The commonplace becomes unbearably missed
Ah, here we go again
Unable to break free, I'm searching
Wandering
I can't change anything
Lying in the corner
I was certainly drawn to that ignored color
On the calmed page that seeps deeply
I hid the crying sky
Being sharp and intense
Not resembling anything
I ended up being considered creepy
Still, I am me
I can't become anyone else
I decided to grasp this brush
Beautiful words have ceased to be beautiful at some point
I write down pie in the sky flamboyantly
Staring at the non-intersecting boundary line
Ah, I'm still
Scared, unable to shake it off,
But I believed,
It was a day when something seemed to happen.
I chose because I strongly felt that "I want it"
I took up the brush because my heart moved properly
Gently captivated by the color of a new morning
Ah, I know
My hand is shaking
But I drew it
The reason why I'm here today