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Vijaya Balan Feb 2017
Painted pictures come to life,
Twirling landscapes with subliminal words,
He gestures back and forth with life,
The white canvass transforms into a palette

You stood on the inside,
Wanting to go out,
You watched from the inside,
Wishing you were someone else

He’s driven around in a limousine,
With a stack of green bills to light his cigar,
He’s got it made and does not know you exist,
He dines with pomposity and drinks in gold

You stood on the outside,
Watching him dine and wine,
You watched from the outside,
Wishing you was sitting there.

She was a model, thin and tall,
Brawny and bright with a flair of the fair,
She smiled and danced, gyrating her hips
She partied until she could no more

You stood on the outside,
You wished you had her life,
You watched from the outside,
Wishing someone invited you
To life’s grand celebration

You did not know though,
The model died of drug abuse,
The tycoon was murdered,
And the artist…ahh the Artist!
That was you…that was you first and foremost
You forgot and you deviated!
You re-arranged your priorities

And now…and now
You stand on the outside,
You no longer can watch the world go by,
You no longer can wish,
You in a wooden coffin,
Being laid to rest.

You died yesterday,
Poisoned with affection
By someone who stood by
And watched you from the outside
formerly known as "Me,watching you"

— The End —