deepundergroundpoetry.com
THE ARTIST
You were gentle and kind,
I, not good at the hands of happiness
when you were in love with me,
words I shared were used like
a hawk and trowel, I flung and
assumed they did not matter,
you, turning to cold stone
sitting through sadder days,
each word chipping
away at grey granite
exposing the unfortunate you,
sculptors tools I had taken
for granted against a love that was true,
I am the artist of my own destruction.
© 2012 Rene Velez
I, not good at the hands of happiness
when you were in love with me,
words I shared were used like
a hawk and trowel, I flung and
assumed they did not matter,
you, turning to cold stone
sitting through sadder days,
each word chipping
away at grey granite
exposing the unfortunate you,
sculptors tools I had taken
for granted against a love that was true,
I am the artist of my own destruction.
© 2012 Rene Velez
Published 13th Jan 2013
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