When I
first met you,
I saw you as average.
and then your face tr ansformed;
you became a painting
greater than I've ever seen
Your watercolors shone
at the brightest scene.
And I thank you for letting
someone as plain as me
into your beautiful
scenery.
I've never been somewhere so glorious,
wonderous.
But I suppose you finally see
my plainess, boringness, allofme.
You used all your white paint to take me
out,
but don't worry, for I won't pout.
I can understand
why you wouldn't want something so bland
in your masterpiece.
But I'm in pieces, broken
just waiting for someone to pick me up.
He will take my pieces, HANDLE WITH CARE,
arranging them in a glorious array;
I'm a mosaic on his wall,
his broken masterpiece,
displayed for all to see.
