The Painter by Mike Williams 08/04/2015 @ 12:16 A.M.

The Painter by Mike Williams 08/04/2015 @ 12:16 A.M.

Her happy smile now empty,
Light in her eyes now dull.
The laugh I adored is quiet,
Wonder left her innocent soul.

This girl I once cherished,
No longer quite the same.
Her dreams shattered into pieces,
Life burned out her flame.

She can not see her magic,
And questions her own worth.
Out snuffed her inner beauty,
Lifeless as ash and earth.

Never was she just the painting,
Now believing a hollow frame.
In truth she was the artist,
The depiction not her aim.

The heart was her canvas,
And love was her paint.
Beguiled by many so foolish,
Her picture fades now faint.

I pray she finds her value,
And learns to love once more.
Raise the dead from cold embers,
To smile larger than before.

Turn her eyes somehow inward,
And find that olden spark.
Depend not on another’s definition,
But light up her own dark.

The girl who laughed and dreamed,
And painted flowers of the field.
May she create for herself alone,
Never again a need to yield.

By chance some sweet morning,
I’ll hear her on the wind.
Full of life and laughter,
Painting her world once again.


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