Wishes

In a town far away,
On a roof,
There is a portrait of a beautiful woman,
And we can only wish.

The portrait is the size of a city block,
But we are so far away.
To us,
We know its beauty,
And we know its magnificence,
For we have been to the town before,
And we have seen the woman, close-up, with our own eyes,
As she was meant to be seen.

We let our eyes deceive us, however,
For all we can see from here is a postcard,
And we can hardly make out the woman.

We can only wish, though.
And wishing is a weary process.
We get used to the walls around us,
We think they are our home.

And sometimes, we forget.

But we know.

We know its beauty,
And we know its magnificence.
And we know that if we keep wishing,

Our wishes will come true.