Neutrally coloured, average sized and painfully demure.
Face etched with lines drawn with a hard edged scale rule.
So awkward in others company, so unhappy on your own.
Contained, emotionally stunted, like you've never grown.

​

The visual picture I paint, so vivid, in many shades of grey.
Suggests a lifeless form on a placid, dull and overcast day.
Yet it does not portray your worth, the colours I would find.
Or the depth of shade and light that’s contained in your mind.

​

Or all the careful planning, all the wishing and the yearning.
Or the motion as all those thoughts are constantly whirring.
So how do I catch something ethereal, not pure steady-state.
Particularly when trying to create this enduring self-portrait.