Poem #328

If your soul craves art
like your body craves air
it means that he stole your peace.

You let him tear down the walls
of your museum and destroy
your books and paintings and melodies

Don’t follow him into the dark.
Let him have those ruined paintings,
ripped out book pages and distorted melodies.

You are strong enough to build a new masterpiece.

4 thoughts on “Poem #328

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