deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Artist

All of our bodies canvases
Our fate on the edge of a paint brush
Carried by an artist
Straight out of art school full of ideas and potential
Many artists have museums of amazing art to show
& others are learning it all
My life comes to a fork on the road
Only the paint brush seems to know where to go

The artists seems indecisive
Every now and then wanting another kind of texture
Changing the paint brush along with my whole life with it
Maybe my life is a collaboration
Too many different styles
Alternate egos that seem to be my life
Not knowing which one is real

My life is a mess
The canvas was obviously practice
No material for a museum
The canvas is full; overwhelmed
With emotion & nonsense
Just like the artist
Learning about life and art
The artist isn’t ready for this at all
The artist doesn’t recognize the paint brush

A red ‘x’ slightly painted over me by the non artistic artist’s shaking hand
Stepping back, the artist looks at the mess that has been made
Throws the paint brush at my life
& in a flash my life passes & so does the chance of the artist to fix what has been done.
Written by naathalie___ (moongirl)
Published
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