22nd Oct

Y'know, love sucks.
It sucks even more, when everyone around you can't give you a straight answer.

I'll always be a painting on a wall,
abandoned, unnoticed,
What once people flocked to see,
yet now just looks down,
for there is no more hope in looking up; just a plaster ceiling.

I'll always be no more than a stain on the table,
what at first shook panic,
caused hysteria,
now just another 'funny story' to reminisce on a rainy day,
in a land where the sun always shines.

When you are next to me,
I amazed you never hear it,
the beacon; yelling profoundly,
like a drowning man for land,
or one who falls; he fears it.

To me you are not just a painting,
you are the grand Mona Lisa herself dressed in a golden frame,
You are not a stain,
but a regal watermark; to bring glory to one's name,
and you are important to me, like an umbrella in the rain, or shade in sunshine.

Yet somehow you bring a special warmth on those rainy days,
In quiet admiration,
you and I; I see a spark,
but it's only between us,
for what uproar would it bring,
for the Mona Lisa to be seen with a mere painting.

Losing the battle for power