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Literature Text
Paper Faces
I stare upon the mindless faces
Printed on paper for the masses to see.
Hung next to treasured paintings
That once meant so much to me.
I look at each face
And there I see meaning.
I look away from the walls,
And suddenly feel my heart bleeding.
Broken, painted memories
Hung about my room with care.
That one person could
Come and destroy my careful-set lair.
Simply to touch
Or to feel
Perhaps to hear or to see
Long ago when I was a child.
To live in forgotten memory.
My place is a sty,
And the apple of my eye.
I couldn't stand to look and feel
The clean deadness that is so real.
My posed and prettied people
Stare back at me with beautiful faces.
Only there do I see love.
You find friends in strange places.
I stare upon the mindless faces
Printed on paper for the masses to see.
Hung next to treasured paintings
That once meant so much to me.
I look at each face
And there I see meaning.
I look away from the walls,
And suddenly feel my heart bleeding.
Broken, painted memories
Hung about my room with care.
That one person could
Come and destroy my careful-set lair.
Simply to touch
Or to feel
Perhaps to hear or to see
Long ago when I was a child.
To live in forgotten memory.
My place is a sty,
And the apple of my eye.
I couldn't stand to look and feel
The clean deadness that is so real.
My posed and prettied people
Stare back at me with beautiful faces.
Only there do I see love.
You find friends in strange places.
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Old. But I like it. Addmittedly I was feeling a little (okay extremely) dejected at the time, due to another in a string of awful fights with my mother and also due to the consequence that I was moderately depressed and most of my friends and I were drifting apart, literally and figuratively, so I was very alone at the time.
© 2005 - 2024 hippopotamusjames
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