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When a Painted Person Moves

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I find myself confined in a wooden frame,

people stare at me and praises me for the beautiful artistry work.

I did put up an amazing landscape today,

behind my back..

The lush green fields and the blue sky meeting at the horizon..

They call it beautiful artistry

but I know things are real here.

I walk through the paths people consider to be not real..

Yet I appear still every single day,

without people knowing till today...

The life of a painted person;

undefined, unimaginative, virtual,

but yet colourful..

The smooth strokes of a paintbrush,

gives life to a person who didn't even exist..