Paintings, captured moments.
Images of motion, of natures beauty.
People, lovers, friends, long forgotten.
pictures lost and found.
Now ghosts we feel we once knew.
Some hang in museums.
Some in private collections.
Painted pictures that measure time.
Measure life itself.
Paintings are there, to be enjoyed.
Pictures, from which they came.
Of where they've been.
Yet, tell us where we are going.
I can hear fate laughing.
Laughing at us, and at what we know.
Unlike ourselves, they know tomorrow's.
And in the comedy, it will be over.
To hang on the walls for others.
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