2:51 AM
The Grandfather's confused
He goes off before anyone can even react
As his voice echoes through the halls and staircases
A lone light is on
In a room of 5, only one light is lit
The scratching of pen to paper is hiding behind the light
The hand which holds the pen quivers, leaving a shaky trail
On the paper lays a picture
In any other lighting it would have been horrible
Yet at that angle, and with the dim light
It was a magnificent piece, burning into my memory
I cannot forget such a piece
For it is for myself only
No other eyes will ever see that dormitory Mona Lisa
As is any great piece of work.
Nov 15, 2010
Nov 15, 2010 at 9:02 PM UTC
2:51 AM
The Grandfather's confused
He goes off before anyone can even react
As his voice echoes through the halls and staircases
A lone light is on
In a room of 5, only one light is lit
The scratching of pen to paper is hiding behind the light
The hand which holds the pen quivers, leaving a shaky trail
On the paper lays a picture
In any other lighting it would have been horrible
Yet at that angle, and with the dim light
It was a magnificent piece, burning into my memory
I cannot forget such a piece
For it is for myself only
No other eyes will ever see that dormitory Mona Lisa
As is any great piece of work.