The painting is all he has
To remind him of her grace.
The frame displays her beauty
And holds her form in place.
He walks toward the frame,
Her image on the wall,
Then stops to view her face
As tears begin to fall.
His fingers touch her lips,
And he pleads for her return,
But death derides his tears,
The ones he can't unlearn.
When dreams disturb his nights,
He grieves in deep despair
Because they always show
What the painting cannot share.