Framed,
Idolised,
Sitting within aureate walls
Luxury and warmth, all without asking
Framed,
Imprisoned
Facing between shining bars
A perfect captive all in the making
Framed,
Admired,
Smiling for the passers-by
Oil and mess is all I became to the eye
Framed,
Exploited,
Spread Open for the critics
Canvas torn open and held together by fame
When the sky falls, they will catch the larks, and they will be free from their graves of golden roots