In every face, a story emerges,
Eyes carrying the weight of their untold life.
It captures more than a just the scene,
The story behind everything we don't see.
A child’s laugh spills into the air,
A mother’s hand brushes the hair.
Love gathers quietly beneath the surface,
And the lines on the skin are maps of memory.
Now I paint mine, Life paints with no order,
Layering the joy and struggle,
Some strokes are hesitant, some bold,
Each one adding depth to the ever-shifting canvas.
In love, in loss, in moments of stillness,
We lay down the colors of our existence.
Every breath, every pause,
Adds to the portrait, always incomplete.
The walls of time hold these images,
Of days lived, of dreams that rose and fell.
In the unspoken spaces,
We find the essence of what it means to live.
To live, live more the portraits vision.
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