A painting that liesIn the corner of the atticNo one remembers byNot that she felt aesthetic A painting that liesConfined within all junkMuch needed guiseHer heart completely sunk A painting that liesAmong the dusty cobwebsNot from MarseillesPerhaps,That’s why, away she ebbs A painting that liesLong forgotten by loverWith hope in those eyesHer emotions hover AContinue reading “A Painting That Lies”