The Lady With No Face

The Lady With No Face

I came across a painting,
One gloomy spring day.
A painting quite unremarkable,
One might rightly say.

The lady with no face,
She was attractive nonetheless.
The lady with no face,
Stood in her long, grey dress.

The unremarkable lady,
Found her place on my wall.
There she stood with pride,
Prepossessing, slim and tall.

She followed me around,
From one home to the next.
The lady with no face,
The uninvited guest.

I unknowingly left her one day,
I suppose my tastes had changed.
I left her safe with my father,
It was there, she remained.

A few years later,
Things had changed, when,
The lady with no face,
Had a new home, once again.

She was still with my father,
In that warm, happy house.
But she had been moved into his room,
Above the bed he shared with his spouse.

I had noticed her there,
One sad, solemn day.
The worst day of my life,
The day my dad passed away.

The lady with no face,
As unremarkable as she is.
Has witnessed so much pain,
So much joy, and so much bliss.

The lady with no face,
Posed proudly on the wall,
Now fascinated me greatly,
As she has truly seen it all.

I never would have thought,
On that gloomy spring day.
The lady with no face,
Would have such a role to play.

So the next time you feel lonely,
Woeful and down,
Lift your head up high,
And take a good look around.

That unremarkable painting,
Hanging there on your wall,
That unremarkable painting,
Is always there, a witness to it all.