The paint is dry, but is it you
who looks away, ( we see one eye)
it could have been me too?
Is it a tear, a laugh a cry?
Is it you, this picture, when
it is not me, are we both here
is it a hollow image then
just canvas with a bit of smear?
Why has the painter left his work
unfinished on the floor
and is that smile there just a smirk
as he walks out the door?
The canvas will just rot and mold
rats will come, the fabric torn apart
We can´t be painted, so I am told.
Just tears can paint an akin heart
entry for jingle potluck starting Monday 23 May 2011 theme: images, pictures an paintings