She let the silvered weapon do it's work, creating a masterpiece that would never be seen. For the artist is unknown, and she would like to keep it that way. She discovered the difference in lines, lengths, depths. She discovered the way the bright and dark colors smeared if you rubbed it the wrong way. She was new at creating permanent artwork. She didn't know that it would feel the way it did. She didn't know that it was so easy to transfer her thoughts onto her piece of work. She didn't know that cutting the thin lines would scar to be something so beautiful in the dark.
YOU ARE READING
Spoken Poetry
PoetryThese are some poems of my own. They are about all different things. Some of them can be a little upsetting for younger readers.
