A forgery

A copy of the original

All the same lines yet none of the spark

The painting lies there

It sits in someone's home

Wishing that it could be real

Wishing it could be original

Wishing it could be the one on the wall

With the fans

The admirers

Wishes it could be the rich one

The painting has a frame

A frame that contains it

A frame that makes sure it never cracks or frays

Even though the painting is just another cheap knock-off

The original doesn't need a frame

The original doesn't need to be protected because no one would ever hurt the original

This painting sits forlornly surrounded by its fellow forgeries beside it

The painting hears the words of others that walk by

Fake

Phony

Who would want that

The painting doesn't want to hang on the wall anymore

It just wants to be taken down

Somewhere it knows the original is being oohed and ahhed by millions

The original is being taken care of

But here lies the copy being dusted once a year

If it's even remembered

The painting is nothing but a copy

A brief echo of someone else's genius

And the painting had no choice

Someone else's brush work had made this painting

Not the famous, the brilliant or the legend

No this painting was made by a very normal painter

The ordinary, the mediocre, the forgotten

This painting will never have the chance to be the original

Not one day or one hour will it know what it's like to be one of a kind

And the painting will always be sad