You started as an artist the way you painted perfect pictures
Our love was abstract
And with your paint brush, You formed prolific fixtures
We had diversity
The various colors you used captured our creativity
Outsiders viewed it as magnificent, And tried to understand it's meaning
But they never understood and didn't see how the frame was misleading
The border around anything can distract the true misconception of what lies between
That paint brush you used... Well, it turns out it wasn't that clean
You mixed paint from a previous painting of yours
And when I looked at the picture, I began to see your true colors
So now I've taken it down off my wall and put it up for sale
No longer should I be reminded of how you made our ship sail
Paintings are the windows of the artists' thoughts
And when I took glance inside, I didn't see me
Someone asked me the price of our painting of Love and I replied by saying it's worth is free
You then became a musician who possessed the talent of playing many instruments
You were a outstanding writer
You sung to my soul some of the greatest songs words could ever form
The way your notes created song was out of my norm
The ink of your pen fail to your staff paper like a rainstorm
Together we made eclectic music, I loved watching you with my instrument and the way you would use it
But then our song went down into the Bridge
The Chorus of my heart was the same but the songs meaning no longer remained
You played me like a piano with the most difficult notes
You swore to Jehovah that our song was the "Realest sh** You Ever Wrote!"
But in the end it wasn't and it now sounded like sad music played on the Titanic boat
You had me Going Down like hearing Mary J. on the elevator
I stuck by your side rather the notes were Minor or Major
You treated me like a Grand Staff, placing so much on me
My heart pounded like 808's
I screamed in Falsetto, Loud enough for gla** to break
You were surely an Artist, alright
You were creative in many ways to cause my heart to Break
© Kenneth Walker