When a Painted Person Moves
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..