Portait


Paint me a portrait of summer sadness
And I will tell you it's a lie.
The summer is my resort to happiness
my ever-growing freedom cry.

Paint me a portrait of the darkness
and I will see the light.
The darkness revolting in my mind.
It battles to make me blind.

Paint me a false portrait of great virtues galore.
False to the bone where great envy is stored.
Paint me a portrait of nothing at all
so I can paint my own path to run not to crawl

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