[A poem prompted by a photo of a person posing next to a painting, with the person mimicking the character in the painting, posing with a deckchair, with hand resting on head]
One is clearly a living actor,
the other appears strangely alive.
One stands there a smiling character,
the other steps forth with drive.
One is greeted with a "Good Morning"
the other with a "Wow!".
One raises a hand, on the head resting,
the other raises eyebrows.
One is seemly in appearance,
the other a colourful sight.
One stays still, keeping one's distance,
the other, with carefree delight.
One is a living breathing being,
alive and full of thought,
the other, non-living inanimate painting,
of life it has naught.
Yet it's not the living that seems more alive,
alongside that which is dead.
It's the lifeless painting that springs to life,
becoming so lively instead.
20191126 05: 21hr
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