It hangs on the wall, a blind man’s painting One that betrays its purpose His fingers smudge the colour As the stain sets in, thoughts sink slowly Down into his mind As the drug kicks in, all he sees are pictures in flashes Her smile fills his eyes They’ll fade with him as the candle burns out Paintings of his life in shades of grey His own masterpiece, in a frame upon the wall The picture now looks barren now that she is gone Asking for one another They never read between the lines No coincidence or happenstance It’s the choice given, To be together is not always fate Perchance the path one cuts through..
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