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luludancer98

If you don't learn to write your own story, someone else will write it for you

16 poems·Since October 2015
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Face Painter

April 10, 2016

The Painter is a master in her craft,

A magician with her brush.

Can paint any face in a second,

Just tell her what you want.

 

Her art works are admired,

By all who should see.

A hundred and one faces,

Each one of them different

Depending on what she needs.

 

“Whose faces are these, I can’t help but ask,”

Friends and family sometimes do ask.

The Painter, in reply gives them an answer like this,

“These faces are just faces, the people I know not.

The faces are just faces,

That come from my thoughts.”

 

But if a stranger should ask,

The same question as they,

A different answer would be given,

The Painter would say,

 

“Those faces are my faces,

That I paint every day.

Those faces are illusions,

For those expressions

That people never say.

 

The truest faces most people don’t want seen,

Those that show the pain, the hurt, the loneliness,

No, people don’t want to see any truth,

Reflected in your face.

All they want to see,

The false happiness’s

Molded onto my face.

 

So I give them what they want,

Those painting that you see.

 

So they can have the expressions they want,

Staring back at them through those paintings,

 

So I don’t have to paint them on me.”

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