OK so I don't have a title for this. Shocker I know. So seems my art book is the only thing I can sorta update but I've been busy so if you read my other stuff I apologize I should maybe be getting things back on track. So if I get the chance there will be a lot of updates in here because hey I now have two art classes a day. So this was my first art homework of the year and believe it or not it was for 3D.
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OK so he wanted to see our 2D art because well yeah hell be teaching us 3D so we had to write a poem but it had to have some elements from the questions we answered on a worksheet which I ended up drawing nagisa on
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Oops So the questions were supposed to get our brains flowing but it did the exact opposite so anyways here is my horrible poem
~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~
A cold breeze saunters in around me Causing me to shudder as I lean against the bark of the weeping willow.
She is a masterpiece, Graceful, Tranquil, Mysterious, Precarious, Above all stunning.
The way she dances down the hill, Swiveling, leaving a trail of crystal blue, Leaves floating down and dancing on the surface, a reflection of oranges and reds fabricating a beautiful landscape.
But today she is still, The blue waters frozen, Leaving only the winds and the willow to accompany me.
The weeping willow, a large tower, Shadowing me from the weight of the world, Branches reaching out to embrace me in a hug, We're I can find solitude.
Warmth encases my chilled hands, It doesn't matter they always seem cold, Just as the world is, Cold, But occasionally warm.
The willow a beautiful tragedy, How fitting, For someone like me to join its presence.
I'm a collage, bits and pieces of others, Woven together to create something unique. Copying, is what some people would say, But aren't we all just collages? The best parts of others that we've taken for ourselves and made our own? Or just the leftover crumbs? Unwanted, sure, but still good.
We take things and morph them into something beautiful, A caterpillar waiting, Waiting for their time to escape their comfy cell, And to shine.
I'm a fire, I can burn brightly when around others, But when left alone I can become a stormy inferno, Or, a single spark that flickers and splutters, Into a small ash, that floats away in the winds, Forgotten, Alone.
I'm many things, I can be a masterpiece, Or a discarded scribble, No matter what I am, The time or day, I'm still something that is there, I'm important, I may not be front and center, But I'm there, And that's what matters.
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OK so I haven't written poetry since 5th grade and I'm now a freshman so yeah I apologize for the badly written poetry. That's all
