Creative Writing, Poetry

Artsy Nothing

Lets get infected

While we inject this love for our art

Coursing through our veins to penetrate our hearts

We plug in

To sing the ad-libs to verses of the catchy tunes our bodies move to

So melodicThe same rhythm we listen to gets caught up in the pronunciation of each syllable that’s heard in spoken word

We read from notebooks that have scribbles of poetic words

Assembled in prose and such

These words an image in the mind of a hand that paints the view that only an artist can feel to understand

We tell a story

We are all connected

We are all eclectic; esoteric

Misunderstood and told our perceptions are wrong

We are love

In all that we do

We are inspired by the aspirations of the ones who come before us

Feeling as though they have the answers But they are still clawing through their pile of life looking for themselves

The answer

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Run it...