The Painting
Tears can paint a picture
As it stains the pillow case
It captures the artists heartache
That's showing on their face
Our emotions are the paintbrush
As it chooses what to paint
Each night it paints it's masterpiece
Never once, practicing restraint
The pillow becomes our canvas
As it displays this work of art
The brushstrokes is the pain we feel
That's hidden in our heart
Our bed is now the eazel
That holds our canvas true
We turn our canvas over
As the tears starts leaking through
This painting is never finished
For the stains are there to stay
The heart is our museum
Where it's always on display
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