It has been three days,
since I've seen that girl.
As I was walking around,
I could not help but halt
at one of Monet's works.
The colors used for the painting
reminded me of her pale green eyes.
Something about the smile
she flashed at me.
I felt like I had seen
a slight glimpse of heaven.
Even after I was surrounded
by hundreds of artworks,
her beauty still stood out
like a diamond in the rocks.
But what would a dime like her
want with a nickel like me?
YOU ARE READING
Aesthetic
Historia CortaEvan is not sure if its the art or her that takes his breath away. Highest Rank: #135 in Poetry; #604 in Short Story
