painted dreams are for the lonely.
who are you,
but a painted lady.
your smile was smudged
when you were born,
in a world far away,
a different time.
but the people always spoke
of the clearness of your eyes,
how it seemed you saw
everything, everyone.
they said you were
always watching out
for them.
you know who you
were watching out for.
someone from your past
lives. someone
too old to remember
the way things happened.
people speak of the way
your dark hair shines,
and they whisper,
yes, it must have
been a great love.
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