Painted

I was an empty canvas before I met you. I had imagined a thousand times what it would feel like to be painted, always envious of the bright colors I saw on others. Then you came along, my perfect painter, with your soft brushes and gentle strokes; you created a masterpiece of me and I know you take pride in the art you have created. But I fear one day, you will find a bigger canvas that will tempt your brushes and colors, leaving me to be bid to the highest patron. But even then, I hope that I’ll always be your most beautiful work, and never left forgotten hanging on a wall. 

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