She slowly walked down the hall,
the bells had long ago tolled
It's the only thought she can hold
She paused at the painting
she had rendered by her hand
crying because she didn't
understand

How every day
he could walk past it
totally ignoring the subject
How his steps along the hall
didn't make him pause and reflect

He never noticed her demise
in each brush stroke
He never contemplated
how she would choke
As each colour was layered
on a pristine white background
Never noticed, how the vein bled
saturating the white with no sound

He never stopped to stare
or try to straighten the picture
She stopped almost habitually
praying silently a stricture

*Don't let me die tonight
while he never gets my Art...
Let the picture speak
a thousand words
While he stares at my broken heart