The girl I love wants a portrait

painted to profess my love

to the entire city we sit so high above.

Each stroke I take feels so out of place

I dare not to discrace her beautiful face

so I start with the stars above.

As I paint, I begin to run out of space

neglecting the city we sit so high above

instead I’ve only painted the stars.

She views my work

“Wheres my face?”

To my my painting of only the stars above.

She doesn’t understand.

Her beauty is to immense.

The closest thing I could paint were the stars above.