There’s nothing I can say

You’ll just take it the wrong way.

It’s been like this since before we met

You determined who I was, and the mould was set.



I walked into your expectations,

The canvas prearranged,

Painted me in colours dark

Your heart the gauge.



Were the canvas fresh and clean,

Another artist might have seen

to let the paint fall where it might,

enjoy the image,

love-- chiarascuro’s light.



So think what you want

See the world through those eyes

I can’t do this anymore

Lord knows I’ve tried.



I’ve tried scratching off the layers you painted on that screen

I’m not that image you’ve painted of me,

But I realise now it’s in the artist’s hand;

His heart creates what’s on that stand.