Friday, June 26, 2009

Sitting There

The painter paints a vivid portrait
Capturing the essence of you
To her you are full of life
She uses color to express
But the man she creates cannot be you.

Who are you?
His body blends into the surroundings
His eyes don’t reflect what he sees
The sound of his heart no longer exists
As he sits there with a blank stare

Where is the man I once loved?
There is no depth to his voice
There is no warmth to his skin
No response to my touch
As he sits there with a blank stare

How could you be so distant?
No blood runs through his veins
The color of his soul seeps through his pores.
He never leaves that god-forsaken chair
As his sits there with a blank stare.

What could make you this way?
There is a detached chill in his presence
His body takes no form of a being
When the heat rises he’s below zero
As he sits there with a blank stare

When did you become so vague?
He doesn’t care who or where
When the sun glows his body casts no shadow
He is just a figure of who he used to be
As he sits there in his chair with a blank stare

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