To you, she was splattered paint on a wrinkled page
Half stuck to your wall by one piece of tape
You always looked past it, but wouldn't throw it away
You barely realized how it complimented your day
So many colors, so bright, no direction
An overwhelming mess serving as calming affection
But still, you were passively looking, searching for art
Waiting to lay eyes on something that would pull on the strings of your heart

You wanted something flawless, with pretty pastels
Something that at upper-scale auctions would always sell
Once you found it you'd take her down
Bid her farewell, thank her for being around
Everyday you'd look past her unaware of the comfort she provided
Who could blame you? She wasn't what you were looking for, you just collided

Overtime, the tape weakened but you didn't see
You left the window wide open and she drifted away freely,
You came home and noticed something was different, but at first didn't know why
You noticed the painting was gone and to your surprise, started to cry
For the first time in a long time you felt that pulling at the strings of your heart
For the first time in your lifetime you realized that painting was art

No wonder you could never find it, that painting was yours
But you were never proud to own it, so it was no more
It's funny how they say art is never appreciated until the artist is gone
Such a tortured process the glory takes so long
Van Gogh was overlooked now he's timeless
His work went from invisible to priceless
To let something like that escape would be a sin
Some people save up their whole lives for a piece of him

So let her be your Van Gogh,
only appreciated once she had to go
Her messy colors once meant nothing to you,
now they're all you'll know