Painted In Grey

And when I opened up my paints,
The colours met with my old feelings,
And so, I set up my old easel,
And set about painting a portrait,
Of you.
The mixture of the brown and the golden,
Falling in the brushstrokes,
Failing as I tried to imitate your hair.
The ocean blue I tried to make,
The love I had for your eyes,
The colour that I tried so hard,
To recreate.
And then the colour of your skin,
My paintbrush painted it within,
The red of your lips,
The water that the watercolours,
Couldn't repeat,
The signiature beneath the work,
The single "X" I left after the sad "For you, I hurt".
The frame I hung that painting in,

Your wandering heart.

The wrinkles in your face,
The darkness in your eyes,
The oily tear,
I never noticed,
The canvas hung upon the wall,
All painted in grey.