Is art the brush across the canvas,

Or the pen across paper, the person

Who enacts and enthralls a crowd?

Is it the pounding heart, the moving limbs

Assembling each piece in sequence, Or

Perhaps the minds that shape each facet?

I don’t know much of art, or of love, or

The many wonders of the vast world,

But I know my heart yearns for creation

Even as worlds crumble all around


2 thoughts on “Art?

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