A painting may be a thousand words
but a thousand paintings can't paint her
A flower living off her own sunlight
A broken mirror that reflects inner beauty
Now all I've got are photos
Some sepia, digital, black and white
Though the colours don't really matter
Because my heart is black and blue
The memory in my camera
Is smaller than my memory of you
I remember everything that you do
And I'll never delete it.
Now, you're just in a picture frame,
And I need a new frame of mind.
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 7:54 AM UTC
A painting may be a thousand words
but a thousand paintings can't paint her
A flower living off her own sunlight
A broken mirror that reflects inner beauty
Now all I've got are photos
Some sepia, digital, black and white
Though the colours don't really matter
Because my heart is black and blue
The memory in my camera
Is smaller than my memory of you
I remember everything that you do
And I'll never delete it.
Now, you're just in a picture frame,
And I need a new frame of mind.
Another note left in the hallways.
There must be a poet on the loose.
