A Certain Picture

In love, in life,
You paint a certain picture
Gilded frames and canvas
And rainbow hued brushstroke

A face, a smile,
You paint a certain picture
Her lips, her hair,
The gems in her eyes

You love, you pray
You worship that picture
You feast on its beauty
It feasts on your time

Incense and myrrh
Fruits and sweetmeats
You spare it no expense
The golden haired picture

And then it is over
The love, infatuation
You rant and you cry
What, when did it go wrong?

It lies in a corner
You kick it, you stab
And then while you cry
 You again ask why

It’s been a month and a half
You’ve almost forgotten
You abuse and stab, only
When drowned in the bottle

And then it’s forgotten
The pain and the hurt
The fury and angst
Lie, worn down by time

Then again it is time
To paint a certain picture
To caress the canvas
With rainbow hued strokes

And so it is taken
Battered and bruised
To the old storeroom
The graveyard of memory

Its canvas is torn,
The paint dulled and peeling.
The frame almost broken
Beset by decay and mould

Flimsy strands of memories
Hold it together
A spiders web of emotion
Fills in the gaps
   
And so it lies forlorn
Lonely, not alone
Amidst broken furniture
Hopes and dreams

Other pictures adorn the walls
Other pictures still to come
No graves, no headstones
In the graveyard of memory