Inside, a turpentine of hate-
Strips the feeling of my soul,
The red of my life.
Behold, a peeling past.
She was the painter girl,
(Soul Mate Artist Beautiful)
The brush of her affection,
Tickled my heart.
Painting the feelings of forever.
Time is not infinite,
And forever is a long time.
On a cold, rainy November day,
My artist found another picture to paint,
Another lover to love.
Filling my soul with the emptiness
Of a hole that falls forever.
-posted by Nobius 11:03 AM 