When I was asked to paint your portrait, <br />I faced it, having closed my eyes; <br />You were in front of me, however, <br />I chose to paint a perfect lie. <br /> <br />A perfect lie would never leave me - <br />And you were there day by day, <br />My lie creation would deceive me, <br />Just like you did it, anyway, <br />Would say I was an “awesome dear” <br />And calm me down at three at night. <br />I painted you, and it was clear. <br />That lie was just the same… but mine. <br />The trial of time would bring no changes <br />And every kiss would mean much more. <br />Now you’re a no more perfect stranger, <br />Who, saying nothing, closed the door. <br /> <br />When I am asked to paint our story, <br />I draw a circle – it’s not the end. <br />You’ll part with me one Sunday morning, <br />But only to come back again.<br /><br />Albert Wong<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-beautiful-disaster/
