I have never heard Lil Naz X perform on a live concert in London, but I have heard my performance when I sing in the shower.

I have never touched the Queen’s crown which has been protected by the case that guards the crown in London, but I have touched fat, blue blueberries from my Grandma’s garden.

I have never held a baby cub as it continues the journey of life with it’s charcoal stripes, but I have held a puppy after a few weeks of being born.

I have never watched a brutal crash on the A1 in the evening while on the way to London, but I have watched Netflix The great white while looking after the sea.

I have never seen the Northern lights on a peaceful night like a stargazer searching for constellations, but I have seen a shooting star on a Saturday night.

I have never visited Japan with the traditions as beautiful as the sunset, but I have visited The Gambia with a traditional music festival.

I have never ridden a donkey on Skegness beach in the after noon, but i have ridden a horse on The Gambia’s beach.

I have never tasted the fresh dragon fruit freshly picked from the emerald Amazon rainforest, but I have tasted a ripe green apple after school.

I want to paint 

the silence of a empty room as the dust motes dance on the sunlight, as it beams through the old window, Granny Rose’s scarlet strawberries freshly picked from her emerald garden in the evenings, the old magpie’s feather drifting to the damp grass, a lime lollipop freshly unwrapped from the packet.

I want to paint

lions fur as smooth as a sunset while the hot apple crumble is cooling down on the window, red tulips opening up like a puppy opening it’s eyes for the first time to see excited children and parents watching cheerfully, the sound of birds singing a lullaby as you slowly drift to sleep in your comfortable, warm bed, the memory of dogs playing with their new ball from the pet shop.

I want to paint 

A orange octopus swimming carefully as it looks around cautiously to make sure there are no predators. I want to paint the taste of stringy cheese on a hot, fresh pizza on a Friday evening. I want to paint the smell of a hot cake that just came out of the oven and being decorated with icing.  I want to paint the sound of children playing gleefully on the playground. I want to paint the memory of meeting your friend for the first time in your new school. I want to paint the impossibility of that the world would be a safe place. I want to paint the distance between the start of life and the end of life. 

I want to paint the end of this poem.