Meaner

Meaner

No sooner did my eyes dash
onto the frame on that wall,
than I just felt like to smirk
over his stature, so small.

The picture so coloured
So as to resemble of his portrait
which is the ugliest as I remember
of all, till the date.

I can’t stop laughing at his face,
so ugly, pale and faint.
And can’t stop praising
The Artist’s difficult job of paint.


He appears haunting
In his horrible hair.
Intolerable to an extent,
that I could had tore mine in despair.

Oh he just looks a kid,
though a fully grown.
His eyes so forgetful for self,
that he can’t even mimic for own.

For all of my words spoken hitherto,
I realize a few defects.
It never was a portrait in paints.
But a mirror, which reflects.

Perplexity shouldn’t be blamed
for the mirror that day was cleaner.
I don’t dare to speak more.
But the reader in a word was “meaner”.

***

Savla Viral L.