In these pictures
she is perfect
a flawless stricture
you'll never reject

But who is she?
Her name?Her story?
is she your cup of tea?
is she your quarry?

She smiles upon you from the frame
she smiles though her smile fades
and now you ask, who'll take the blame
for all her high and low shades.

You stare into her eyes
you memorize her face
Yet it comes as a suprise
how easy she is to erase

How easy to forget
how unimportant she becomes
like a toy you did neglect
until someone else comes

He sees her all alone
immediately enthralled
promptly he has grown
infatuated, but you're appalled

You feel an emptiness within
An emotion unknown
Could it be? Jealousy; a deadly sin?
Or heartbreak upon your heart of stone.

The urge to have her back
goes beyond wanting love
And so you plan your attack
first the push, then the shove

But to no avail
she loves him so
you must except defeat, that ship did sail
but you were not invited to go

Finally she is free
no longer your personal plaything
Now she grasps her own key
freedom is amazing

So you can look on and say
"What a pretty waste"
But he will never stray
For he thinks; "What a pretty face"