Her brush is gracing a canvas that was never meant to be hers.
The pastels and the oils are slowly settling into a pool of
unidentified and undesireable nothing; she smiles.
She welcomes the criticism and the glances of disaproval
while she encourages the muffled laughter as people pass her by.
This pool of undesireable nothing is a fountain of youth
Where she will bask in the wake
Of the forever young
|I'll remember you- The ataris|