Dark, Emotions, Freestyle, Poetry, Writing

The Portrait

Photo by Steve Johnson on Pexels.com

The picture rests atop a pristine ivory canvas, 

Strokes of ebony ink rippling across its surface, 

Shallow raven black streams that weave together

An ornate portrait of a not so distant past 

Within its little hidden details, the story 

Of a once happy family slowly unravels

The thin brush that created it, 

Soaked with the crippling weight of years and years

Worth of painful crystalline tears

The moisture never quite wicks away, 

Just like the gentle brush strokes refuse to fade

Even as time passes, bittersweet memories entombed

In their soft curves, loops, and edges

The picture rests atop a pristine ivory canvas, 

Holding in a history that begs to break free 

© 7 June 2020, by Haley Scully

2 thoughts on “The Portrait”

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