The Painting

You’ve seen this before
You’ve gazed on this painting
This portrait of sadness
Your eyes swelling, tainting
 
In the portrait you see
A man sits alone
The oils refine him
His future unknown
 
But is it a painting?
Or a mirror of kind?
Telling the future
Or the past left behind
 
If you stare you will know
That the painting you see
Is both the record untold
And what has yet to be
 
And as time passes by
The colors will fade
Until all that is left
is a canvas of gray.
 
©2012 Alex Hicks

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