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The work of ART

I stood there thinking about what there artist said to me?
Was it something profound or something extraordinary?
Was it a question about how we live;  or what we are as human beings?
My brain could not comprehend, 
this quagmire of lines and shapes and colors put before me. 
I thought to myself;  who in the hell can even come close,
to interpreting this collage of absolutely vomiting stuff?
Am I the only one that see's it that way?
Everyone else is oohing and awing;  what do they see that I don't?
Am I absolutely freaking nuts because I don't see it?
Suddenly it hit me;   An expression of the soul.  
A determined pronouncement, 
of an individuals testament to a period of time in ones life.
Pretty much like the poems I write.

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