Void

Void

I once had a painting.
It hung on my wall.
There it sat all day.
Surrounded by its kin.
In a nest of paisley pattern.

Since the beginning of time,
it sat in that spot.
A time before it's existence,
found only in ancient legend.

Always I had looked, without seeing.
Seen without noticing.
Brought attention to, without attending to.
I may have painted it.
Or it may have painted me.

That painting is gone now.
Stolen, or lost, or Destroyed.
But the scar remains.
The painting left a void.

Now that it's gone,
I notice it more.
The space where it was,
is as bare as the floor.

Now that its gone,
It still exists in my mind.
But within my head,
Who knows what one might find.

Now that it's gone.