gallery
is full of faces staring back
into ours.
no pictures
or photographs
but an artist's rendition
of who
these people were.
oils
and acrylics,
sketches made
in charcoal.
some shadowed
some
basking in British
sunlight.
we learn
their lives
as we walk down
the alley
of art.
wondering if we're ever
happy with
who we are.
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