Tattered battered, in a queue
Crisscrossed shacks in the slum grew
Flaking paint, crumbling walls
A wreck, an eyesore, just next to the mall
Then one day, an artist arrived,
In the walls of slums—saw a canvas disguised.
Painted the shacks red, yellow, and blue
the slum now a burst of color, rainbow of hues
Awning, curb, panels soon became a canvas
Chasing away the residents’ blues, their sadness
The same slum which was scruffy shabby, a blot
In its multicolored avatar; became a tourist spot
The colors from the walls slipped in the dweller’s hearts
They called it “art with a heart.”
#100wordsminitales
#pocketstories
#tinytales
This tiny tale was written for a prompt contest by Women’s Web. The prompt was to weave a 100-words story on the given picture. The story was chosen as one of the winners.