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kassikate — Tortured Artist
Published: 2010-03-27 19:48:08 +0000 UTC; Views: 213; Favourites: 6; Downloads: 2
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Description
I saw his hands were tremblingHis nervous eyes, flickering.
He had not picked up his
utensil of life
for a while now.
His breathing came sharp and fast
His eyes would fly up from
the white canvas
And meet mine with a wild
determination.
And there I stood in the moonlight,
bathed by the silver moonlight,
My skin was cold underneath
my innocent fingertips.
I watched him with intensity
As his fingers flew over the page
tracing my every flaw
There were ones he could not see
That the real flaw, was me
I disobeyed society
Didn't know what I was looking for
Until I saw the finished product,
A body touched to the finished score,
That I would fall in love with the
tortured artist
Who made my flaws worth more.
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Comments: 8
This too is quite good, though I must agree with ~Angelo-Ryan about the "utensil of life" thing. Also, I don't particularly like how you have "moonlight" twice in two lines; if other, key parts of the poem were repetitive, then it would probably fit better. Also, I like the spontaneous rhyming at the end. Overall, a very good piece.
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very good!! makes you think and i really like the last couple of lines
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Very nice, very meaningful. I don't really like the line "utensil of life," it sounds a bit quirky, but aside from that it is definitely amongst the better poems I've read.
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This makes me think of a song by Circa Survive.
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I love the ending on this. So poignant and sweet. Beautiful!
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thank you! I really appreciate it
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