The Walls Are Alive with Colour 

Every wall is a canvas,

To paint the city anew.

Where rushing waves, 

Contrast the stillness, 

And the age of the old stone walls 

It is a fortress that’s stood the test of time. 

No longer needing to provide protection, 

It’s still a haven, 

Providing refuge, 

Not to worn-down merchants and sailors, 

But to starving travellers with a hankering for art. 

They feast their eyes, 

Release their minds, 

And the colours flow out of their fingertips.

Pressed against the walls,

They preserve the vitality of the city

Because change makes it a breathing attraction. 

They turned the walls into canvases,

And blanketed them in art.