The Emptiness Of Art

The Emptiness Of Art short poem


As my tired cheeks felt the cold tears from my swollen eyes
As my mouth tasted the saltiness from the pain of these holy waters
I am drowned by the rain that I made, so dark, so loud
That what I only wish for it, is to stop.

But I can’t. I won’t.
Though I’m falling apart, I can only see grey and not art
But by washing away the canvass that I had drew on my face
I can only pray to forever not chase

A paint that aces a very colorful one
Though I did not only create
I drew strokes and lines
But someone colored it with the kisses of highlights

I painted it plainly with white,
I traced it with lead to make its borders strong
But someone smudged it,
To soften the features of it all.

I changed
I let someone paint the guards of my art.
And now I’m left with my fading art,
Nothing but a broken heart

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