Creative Writing With The Same Thoughts

Portrait

I often look through the frame that rests in the desolate shop

I see the simplest version of me

Two dots, a half circle, hair littered everywhere

I go to look at the finished pieces, of which are everyone but me

I stop in place, trying to pick out similarities between my shadow reflection and the unfamiliar faces

As detailed as they appear, the circles that have been finished look odd and out of place

The effort taken was a hundred fold, one I strained to see, the other comfortingly obvious

If they chose to pin me up on a glamorous wall in which everyone walked past

It becomes apparent that thousands would give their leg for a version specifically depicting their own likeness 

I happen to be content with this thought

As minimalist as I appear, the fact that it's uncommon to be portrayed this way, means nothing to the ones that can't give, yet everything to those who think they can

In reality, being spared from the golden gates means that it's worthless and an eye sore

Yet all it takes is to be put where it doesn't belong

Someone will mistake it for the new age of art, while others follow

Art is before my time, so I think it'll come to rediscover me on the next visit