...so there you have it. My new stylin' deckish thing. It feels inviting [as apposed to tolerated, like before.] I'm pretty pleased with it [as you can tell]. A part of a "grander scheme", that I'm working toward.
Well, back to it then.
I'll leave you with another older poem.
Unique
Your touch
Your walk
Your fingerprint
Your voice
…are all unique
To you.
One may attempt to imitate it
But somehow can never copy
You, not completely
Not the way you
Think
Or speak
Not the way
You construct sentences
Link thoughts together
…or create art
No one can copy
The way you communicate
With the maker of all things
Why… then
Do we struggle
With who we are?
Why do we
[some of us, anyway]
Struggle
To let the real “me”
Come out & “play”?
To let the real me
Create?
“but they will laugh at me”
[at least you had guts to put yourself out there]
Maybe they will laugh…
…maybe their laughter
Is their way of hiding the tears
…of their own feelings
Of inadequacy
To hide the fact
That they are jealous
That you had the courage to try
And they… did not.
You gave it a shot
[and they did, squat]
You are unique
Each human
Is
A Sculpture of God.
“The Art of The Almighty”
Sadly…
[I know, because I am chief
Among those who are like this]
Sadly…
It is easy to say such things…
As long…
As I’m not…
Looking in a mirror.
But before you hang your head for me…
I have many…
Who just keep on saying
That I
Am art, too.
That I make art
That I am an artist
That I am unique
In a good way, too.
Slowly
I am feeling
Ok to be alive
Maybe I am an artist
[maybe…
He can use my art
… to save us both]
2 comments:
it looks really nice.
i like swings.
What's funny is, my wife really wanted the swing. I was "on the fence". Till, my Dad helped me get this set up... now I LOVE it.
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