Let me take
This opportunity
To tell you
What won’t come true;

Those dreams
And teenage ambitions
We believed
Would help us escape –

That poetry
Straight from the heart
And paintings
Losing their answers

Among colors
Stressed and faded
On a canvas
Stroked too weak

After years
Of slaving away
When believing
Lies were essential

While pretending
Our fates intended
Could somehow
Appear out of air

Like a portrait
Missing in frame
Still the picture
Lacking distinction

As an image
Blended with silence
And colors safe
Without voice,

Camouflaged
Though they remain
Apparent to some
Who can witness

Expression
Freer than wisdom
Which determines worth
Beyond death

Lasting
Unlike our jobs
But akin to bonds
We establish

Between each person
Agreeing
This need to love
Is divine

Where it speaks
Through art as our faith
Fulfilling hope
Left neglected

Even if fighting
Defenseless
Alone and knowing
We’ve lost.

– J. Pigno