Art Life
Poem
Sep 7, 2018 · 1 min read

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Walls of art,
But they only contained life,
Containing pieces of soul that lives on of its creator,
Arts that have each a language,
A story,
They cling to solid reality but have no direction,
They have love and resent,
They have strength to be more than a weakness,
Even if death is the only story to tell.
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When all that is left is an art,
It is left to the ones that see, to decide,
And for the creators, to change and covet more
To fill places of needed residence,
To have passion, to light a fire within the havocs,
And within the chaotic creations.
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