I was your model
And you the painter
Between us lay a white sheet of paper
You guided me
to where I should be
A bend here, a pose there
But no expression for my face
Your pallet was full of an array of colours
Bright red, pure gold, blues and others
But yet you daren't shade me in beauty and light for that
would be a terrible sight
With an inch Id try and move
to show you the light that fell on your display
But to no avail, your eyes saw me as shades of greys that
would never be for sale
So I continued to pose until you were done
And accepted that you would never see the beauty of
the shinning sun
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
this is truly a beautiful poem! ... great job!