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Paint
Painting
Colors; they love to dance
Across my canvas
Without my mind knowing
What is going to happen to them
They ask to be
Put into a sensible form, who am I to
refuse?
Words
Writing
They ask to be painted
Into something the mind can
Grasp
Something my body can understand
Something that can be taken in
And yet
Left
On the canvas, where painting and words
Collide and
Belong.
- Title: [Check Description] 2
- Artist: dndrules3
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Description:
The title of this poem won't fit up their either so, this one is called: An Arist's Palette and A Writer's Paper Clash. I was unsure whether on not to pursue art or writting.
Side note on Authenticity: This was published on my schools senior project poetry website. I did write it though. - Date: 07/26/2008
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Comments (3 Comments)
- twlightdescends - 01/29/2009
- I like it. I had the same predicament, but i chose writing.
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- Schizophrenic Angel - 07/26/2008
- I've personally never liked poems that were made in the broken form, it just.. makes me think of William Shatner honestly xD. I love the meaning, I just don't like the form =3.
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- Vavette - 07/26/2008
- Woo, first comment. Personally, I lost track of it half way through on the meaning... but the intro 9first five lines) was great.
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