Pleb

So I spent a few hours last night trying to write a poem for her....it was terrible

And because I fell asleep at 3am I didnt get up til late this morning, whilst she waited she wrote:

Poison entered my viens with intent,
visualization that beheld itself
aloft across my brow created that moment.
Lost within a second, only considered after.
You said to yourself to never forget it.
That it was this that had the most impact.
Centered with your life around.
Till it passes.
You forget.

And it rests hidden inside your memories

That frozen memory encapsulated in paper,
Seemingly impossible the capabilities of the artist.
To create something so fine, or so unrealistic with a single stroke.
Pushed aside, thrown away each one holds the collective feeling.
Had emotion coursing through them.
Despite how similar in style, how exact.
Obvious still the differences are.
So that one day whilst clearing musty area of a room,
you will come across, not just a painting but of a portrayal of past self.

Remembering once who you were.

A.M. Dale

In no time at all!
 
I hate her :P