The portrait

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I stared at a portrait.
It was of a woman of vigour.
She looked formidable,
I can't help but admire.

I stared at the portrait,
wondering how it could be -
for someone to look so strong on the outside
but not in.

I stared at my portrait,
not believing it was I.
How could it be -
to admire me but not I?

The portrait | Ecency