As I roam this gallery of portraits
I see beautiful ones, but quite a few
A myriad happy and gloomy faces
And by serendipity, I find you.

Chaos of colors, your broken pieces
What could have ruined this exquisite art?
I try to save you from your grave distress
With the only last piece of my broken heart.

But woe to me as it has ever been
I failed to paint your most beautiful smile
My colors failed me, I stand crestfallen
You're another piece of artistic style

Oh! My broken heart breaks even further
As I see you being painted by him
He's an expressionist; well-defined painter
Painting you love as I have never seen.

I'm doomed; consumed by my melancholy
I'm a pathetic painter-turned-poet
Can somebody, anybody save me?
Slowly, I become a broken portrait.