Double-edged Sword: a poetry collection
- Reads 293
- Votes 20
- Parts 13
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Mon, Mar 18, 2024
Words are just words. Until they turn into sentences. Once that happens, they're either a sword or a sheild. Or both.
Sword Stock photo by Vecteezy
All Rights Reserved
#143
2min
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There is Dream. Most days he is an gallery. An art exhibition of all the things that he wishes to forget. Most days he misses things that he has never done and people that he has never met. Most days he is a glass half empty. There is George. Some days he is a true artist, with all the pain and hurt that comes with the title. Some days he is poet. Some days he is a dead poets poetry. But most days he is in love with the world and the pain that it is. Most days he is a glass half full. And there is art classes. Somewhat of an 'in-between'. A place that keeps quiet about all the things that it sees, a place that is nothing and so much at the same time. And it pulls painters like Dream, poets like George and artists like them in to a deep place of hurt and heaven. Most days it's a cracking glass. Some days it's the cold wine in it. And you are given the chance to peek inside the in-between and read about one of the stories that the art classes walls are now carrying.
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