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She's painted the most beautiful portraits of life. Where a bird's song is the only drug, Dry leaves crunching the only violence. Love is the only wildfire, And she is the spark. The only problem is: I'm not in that portrait. But it was not always that way. I accompanied her in that portrait, the Robin to her Batman, the yin to her yang, the boom to her bang. I was painted over and replaced. Because after all, all paint fades.
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Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 10:55 PM UTC
The Artist
She's painted the most beautiful portraits of life. Where a bird's song is the only drug, Dry leaves crunching the only violence. Love is the only wildfire, And she is the spark. The only problem is: I'm not in that portrait. But it was not always that way. I accompanied her in that portrait, the Robin to her Batman, the yin to her yang, the boom to her bang. I was painted over and replaced. Because after all, all paint fades.
Hi all, I really liked this poem although it isn't long. Please leave feedback to help further pieces or tell me areas of strength. Thanks for reading!
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Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 10:55 PM UTC
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