The Sketch

A pale and colourless piece of art.
I found in my cupboard,
Made by someone close to my heart.
It was a sketch with no shades.
Or, the colours have been washed up by the waves.
Some spark was there,
In those blurry eyes.
Which took me to the time
I thought I would forget,
But still remember.
The lips were telling some different story,
Smiling and hiding some pain and worries.
The faded lines and curves,
warm up my memories.
It reminds me of my good days
and my miseries.

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