I hung on the wall incomplete and forgotten.
Collecting dust in a battered frame.
My paint had long since faded,
My past and my present always the same.

Unnoticed I hung,
As others walked by.
With finer art around me,
I never caught anyone’s eye.

What was I?
A draft at best,
A sketch unfinished,
Then left to rest?

Not even straight,
My frame hung aloof on a nail.
No light ever found me,
The dark added to my fail.

Precious were the hours,
Watching souls pass me by.
None ever stopped to look,
I sighed and I cried feeling all hope die.

Then hands, your hands,
Straightened my frame.
My world plumb and level,
The day that you came.

Antique and ugly,
An unfinished piece.
You stood back and smiled,
Would my loneliness cease?

You took me home,
To a place you had made.
You gave me my worth,
A fair price paid.

Now I’m yours,
Thanks to your loving grace.
An unfinished piece,
Hung in a well-lighted place.

So here I hang,
For all the world to see.
Little did I realize then,
That finding you, finished me.