(Untitled)
Sitting on a bench by the lake
Is a man staring at a distance
A trace of sadness on his face.
His eyes mirror what's inside
A simple, silver-toned romantic
Yearning for the joy that once he had.
He's a picture of affliction
He's a perfect image of woe
A living soul & yet unfeeling alive
Coz he lives a life, a life of agony.
His hands are clenched, his lips go tight
For trying to hold back the tears
The tears all welling up within.
But his eyes mirror what's inside
A heart with chambers soft and longing
For love to fill them once again.
He's a portrait of torment and sorrow
Someone running out of hope
A living soul and yet unfeeling alive
Coz he lives a life, a life of agony.
If only I could paint him in a canvass
I'd use the brightest colors I could get
And brush back in all happiness this world can give.
I'd bring him back the happiness I can give.
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