Through the frame another's eyes
Another view, others lives
Always perfect, pristine and clear
Though no sound is made still you hear
Watching movement through the stillness
Frozen solid like an illness
Black tides crash upon an empty white sea
Colors flowing bright as can be
Mesmerized by things unseen
Look up and down and in between
At the end of the day you'll find the meaning
The painters painting is just a drawing.