The woman in the painting came to me,
And offered me the greatest deal.
She wants a life,I want her beauty.
An exchange, the best appeal.

Her eyes, they were enchanting,
Her offer, it was so compelling.
But now I sit here on the wall,
A painting, surrounded by all.

But I wouldn't have said yes,
If I had known that meant I had to sit and be,
Framed on the wall of a gallery,
A beautiful painting of a mess.

And nobody can see behind the paint,
My true heart ; my thoughts and brain,
Now my beauty is false and unreal.
Because my true beauty was within and surreal.

Now I am trapped, a canvas of distress,
Forced to bear every critic's caress.
My fake beauty lies, no one can see my cries.
I wish I could've seen myself with better eyes.