Art
i
We tread too loudly, too strongly,
on this earth.
We smear our
dark,
ugly,
night
all over the canvas
and call it art.
ii
We try to fix it,
the mistake, the blotch of shadow,
try to return the pureness,
the innocence, the original glory,
but it is gone,
and all we have are
tear-streaked skies
and
star-soaked nights.
iii
We regret, oh we regret our choices,
our bad decisions.
It is such unsatisfactory art,
and we paint all over it,
we try and try our best to erase
but all we end up doing is
walking with thundering,
destructive steps, ravaging the land,
and we smear it more,
we make it worse.
And when we look back at that sore,
sorry waste of color,
we step back,
not lightly, of course,
and call it art.
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YOU ARE READING
watercolor thoughts [completed]
Poetrypoetry by a painter who now paints her art in words "we tread too loudly, too violently on our earth. we smear our dark, ugly night all over the canvas and call it art." #80 in poetry [12/22/16] | © 2016 lookforthatlight