Editor's ChoiceMusingsPoetrySad Poems

The Pain in the Painting

People and the life they live are wonderful
But that’s one thing with a painting
Beautiful from far but with a close look, far from beautiful
‘Tis really a sad thing…. a pain thing!
Like a painting, they appear lovely, strong and tough
Living like they’ve got a billion choices
But inside, they are so edgy and rough
They cry out but no one hears their voices

I wonder why we love people more when they die
Not much value for ’em when while they are alive
They send love notes… no reply
Can never really see them no matter how they strive
While they lived, we didn’t give a single rose
But when they are dead and their eyes are closed,
Their graves we cover with a billion flowers…
Oh so late! Our love then is late no matter how much it showers

This life is just one
And not a rehearsal for another
So to all the friends we’ve lost and won
To them try to be a brother
Your lovely hearts please unsheathe
Cos we only live once, we ain’t got clones
So love us while we still breathe
Not when we become lifeless cases of skin and bones

We know there’s a lot of hate in this world
But please don’t be a part of it
We might be few in this world
But we will still fight it
More loving and less hating
So let’s fight the hate and become winners
Cos we live in a world where sinners
Are judging sinners for not sinning the type of sin they are sinning

Please save us while and when you can
Not minding the camouflage of our smiling
Keep us happy always because we know you can
Cos our emotions keep flying
We always appear great and shining on
Just like an expensive art of painting
Please look closely, cos we’re dying from

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