⭐ The Girl Who Painted Stars
⭐ The Girl Who Painted Stars
⭐ The Girl Who Painted Stars
In a quiet town with sky so wide,
Where dreams were small and hope would hide,
Lived a girl with silent eyes,
Who found her truth beneath the skies.
She didn’t speak with words or song,
But painted stars the whole night long.
On rooftops, fences, windowpanes,
She drew bright sparks through joy and rain.
While others laughed or stayed inside,
She wandered streets with humble pride.
Her paint was soft, her brush was light—
But oh, she filled the world with light.
She drew on benches, schoolyard walls,
Left stars in cracks and shadowed halls.
She didn’t wait for praise or pay—
She gave the sky to those who’d stay.
The grown-ups frowned, they didn’t see
What art and stars could truly be.
But children watched with open eyes—
And learned to dream beneath her skies.
She never asked for things to keep,
Just gave her stars while others sleep.
And in her quiet, strange and kind,
She shaped the hearts she left behind.
One morning came, she disappeared.
No brush, no bag, no words appeared.
But in the square beneath the tree,
A message waited, wild and free:
“Keep painting stars,” the writing read,
“And find the light where fear has spread.”
She’d vanished with the morning breeze—
But left her stars on doors and leaves.
Now others paint, both young and old,
With chalk in hand and colors bold.
They pass her gift from soul to soul—
A girl who made the broken whole.
✨ Meaning of the Poem
This poem tells the story of a quiet, imaginative girl who uses art to spread beauty, kindness, and light in a world that often overlooks small wonders.
🌟 What She Represents:
Creativity: She uses painting not just as decoration, but as expression and healing.
Kindness: Even without speaking, she makes people feel seen, loved, and hopeful.
Courage: Though judged and misunderstood, she continues painting anyway, showing bravery in being different.
📚 Message for the Reader:
You don’t have to be loud or famous to make an impact.
Even small acts of beauty or kindness can change someone’s world.
Art, imagination, and love leave lasting marks—even when the artist is gone.
You are capable of bringing light, no matter your age, status, or voice.
About the Creator
Keep reading
More stories from rokib ahmed and writers in Poets and other communities.
Absolute Zero
My ambitious maw couldn't keep me warm anymore. You were the wolfhound that kept attacking it to sustain yourself. Everything you could steal, you did no matter how insignificant. You siphoned my life in small increments in order to achieve a sense of regularity. It was all for appearance's sake. You were the rat king my tail kept getting attached to. I would scurry away but all to no avail. I wallowed in compromise and misery in an attempt to be less for you. I was driven but you were threatened by anything resembling intelligence. You loved me being incomplete. I pretended to be deaf so you could speak for me. I chose silence so you could choose for me instead. I learned to surrender because you felt some desperate need to be in command. My opinion of you continued to shrink. You were never the almighty one you convinced yourself you were. It's amazing how fragile your masculinity was so you had to take my dignity to supplement. I was the undead carcass you kept feeding on. You couldn't find your own food source so you used me for your appetite. You refused to find shelter so I became your haven at the expense of myself. You somehow always knew better, it seemed. Like there was written proof somewhere out there in the cosmos that you were the superior one. I was the deluded victim you had to subjugate and keep isolated. You made it your life's mission to devalue me. You did everything to justify your abusive and callous behavior. You were always my biggest disappointment, You made sure I didn't deserve better. I had to worship you because you lived off of recognition. I was kept hostage for 15 years while you remained drunk off of my tears. I was the aberration I sought but could never enforce. You were the unwelcome savior that felt compelled to trap me. I was held captive and was forced to enjoy it. I soared beyond your limitations but you punished me for that. My entropy was at always at your mercy. You wanted me at my lowest, at absolute zero. My energy was at your disposal. I was a dedicated zombie that couldn't breathe without your permission. I was forever caught in your perpetual undertow. What would it mean to prosper? What would it feel like to reclaim my power? I was the walking dead you feared would rise against you one day. I wasn't willing to join you at your subterranean level. My melancholy is no longer my friend. I have slowly ascended to the height I always pictured myself achieving. My endeavors refuse to be frigid and tepid. You are banished to the frozen exteriors of my mind. Where polar ice and bleak extremities knew me so well. I was once at absolute zero. I was a former version of myself you kept hidden for fear of losing to. I'm not who I used to be. I am allowed to evolve beyond arctic cold. I'm thawing out, slowly but surely. The temperature is rising and so am I. My heat obliterated you because you kept stripping me of it. I was a motionless entity, encased in marble glacier, a reminder of all that I had dreamt of. Those dreams have returned. They have bestowed their value unto me once more. I'm not your captive anymore. I've been diminished long enough. Go be one with your beloved entropy. My energy cannot be destroyed nor removed anymore. You have no more influence over me anymore
By Anna Torres5 days ago in Poets
The Devil's Cut
“Comrade, finally you’re awake.” The voice was smooth, sensual. A flickering incandescent bar was all that lit the white, sterile room. All Vladimir remembered was everything going black. He tried to move his arms and found them strapped to the gurney.
By Matthew J. Fromm6 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.