Chronicles of an Ordinary Life

Contemplating the beauty of a painting,
Regardless of the artists brushstrokes.
Frozen and unable to conceive a meaning,
As clocks tick while the night crawls,

A faint music hovers behind my ears,
Trembles my thighs out of the blue
Slowly I lose and everything disappears,
The painter knows I’m without a clue,

I look deeper and hope something blooms,
Beside me a woman glitches into being,
A glance and I’m pulled out of the glooms,
Heart’s reaching out but my soul’s fleeing,

Once again I stand still before the painting,
Knowing there is something for I’m waiting

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