A painting lay forgotten

In an old little corner

New set of dark eyes

Watch unnerving dead ones

A caramel coloured face

Full of burning scars

A tilt on her mouth

A lift to the eyebrow

Disgust on alive one’s face

At the ugly little picture

Careless shrug of indifference

The story doesn’t end here

Tracing the old scars

Day in and day out

Loving small things

Of a dead person’s face

The ugly little picture

Now a world to him

Framed in the centre of room

She watches over her house

 

I had this idea for a story for a long time. So the poem it is.