If experience is to be my instructor,
Then let the class begin.
I've tried all ways to be different
But sameness will be my end.

The portrait of a lifetime
Stands before my eyes;
The subjects, still and smiling,
Try to hide the lies.

Turning to ponder my own,
I shook with fear and dread.
And in my mind returned to me
Every tear I've ever shed.

In the painting of a potrait
There is no going back;
Merely the scattering of the colors
And coping with the lack.

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