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imposter

s. siffre

we see her portrait

that others painted

with colours of their choice


so perfect was her portrait

they took it away

hid it in their cellars where it couldn't be defamed


on occasion, they displayed her portrait

denied when she revealed there were more shades to it

stubbornly asked her to follow the image


and so she tried, to be the portrait

cut away her sharp edges, hide her other dimensions

futile for she was never made for that canvas


they tied iron chains around the portrait

prideful, so they called her a fraud

said either way she got lucky, the lighting was in the right spot


she is trapped inside the portrait

screaming her throat hoarse

clawing to get out, and give them the truthful show


but nothing else matters but the portrait

nothing else matters but the portrait


she matters

she mattered, but

the portrait

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