PORTRAIT

The running water seeps between her fingers,
And the soap is ready to find her true self only.
She washes away the remains of her day to day mask that lingers,
And the girl you see is a fading portrait entitled lonely.

Her eyes are hollow, dark, and barely open;
However the portrait enlarges and the eyes widen.
Creases in her cheeks whisper life use to be glowing,
But the deeper grooves along her forehead show she is now forever crying.

What caused her pain, what caused her death?
What caused her to runaway without a trace?
You’re told her heart is cold, you may even feel her breath,
But her pain, her truth . . . HER you will soon embrace!

A prayer to God to sort things out,
The portrait closes her eyes and ends her show for the night.
Silly dreams of happiness no longer float about,
Instead she plans on how to win tomorrow’s fight.

The show will reopen roughly around noon,
Too lazy to move and too tired to care.
She wonders who would be there if it ended soon;
Would they close the blinds to her show or would they let her portrait broadcast bare?

Another day to prepare her mask,
Her pain is now colorful, covered by what money bought, and buried by shame!
The portrait is scared that life is just too hard of a task,
Her lips are sealed, there is no one to blame and she knows life will always be the same.