Art isn't to be looked at,
It is to be felt.
Let me illustrate a picture
Of a wretched soul
And explain why it's so...
Beautiful.
Because God's works are never on display,
But the presence of his paints has never
Been faint in it's strokes.
Let me give you a harsh outline of the soft shadows,
An intangible illustration of the darkness residing in all of us.
Let me dabble with feint passes of the brush, to
Bring attention to the light radiance eminating from all of us.
Let me sculpt you a figure of a tortured mind,
An abstract piece we hide within all of us.
Let me remind you that between poets and painters,
We all have one thing in common...
Each one of us,
Is a real piece of work.
