The Abstract Art

I entered the room,

"Is this the right thing to do?"

Left it to fate to assume.

I stared at it for a minute or two,

the taints of colour in every small touch.

I tried to look for you,

For I really couldn't comprehend much.

A faded face,

drawn as if it were traced.

Looked at the sea that was blue,

flowing past flowers of different hues.

Looking at the girl,

I stood.

Looked at it

for as long as one could.

"Is this really the work of your life?”

I sighed and sat by the window pane.

Letting the sound of laughter fade.

I looked outside the window pane,

Thinking of your painted pain.

As i stared at my reflection,

It hit me you priced me above my perception.

Jolted, I looked around

Clearly woken up from my trance.

At the room,

I took one more glance.

It's funny how i saw myself,

in every canvas on every shelf.

It wasn't me that you painted,

But truths are better off tainted.

Like that,

I kept thinking about me.

Instead of the canvas

that yelled at me, your agony.