People of Art

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Young Adult  |  House: Booksie Classic
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Submitted: August 18, 2012

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Submitted: August 18, 2012

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Oh, why is my mind bound?
Chained in mediocrity, in grey,
Unable to produce masterpieces,
Unable to copy that which it desires.

 

Why do my hands, smothered in charcoal,
Not move like water and form art.
But rather smudge, tear, create harsh lines
Of painfully obvious fiction.

 

Are some souls bound to reality?
Or is it the lack of soul which destroys art?
Squashes imagination, makes a vision vague.
Makes life hard to express.


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