An Artist
Him and I are very different...
he sees a strange painting
I see beauty and mystery
he sees a stupid ballet
I see technique, emotion, passion
he sees a tree or the ocean
I see wonder and grace
he sees the sky or feels the wind
I see miracles and endless possibilities
he sees a homeless man
I see history and fear
he sees money and power
I see evil and greed
he sees a tear and weakness
I see pain and a breaking point
he sees diffrences
I see individuality and commonality as a human race
he sees insanity
I see creativity and curiousity
he sees life
I see a journey and a struggle
he sees a trophy wife... a convenience
I see me...my understanding, my mind, my heart
In me I see the painting and the ballet
I am part of the tree, the ocean, and the sky
I too am like the homeless man who is weak and tired
I cry and I am probably slighty insane
but I am different... I don't need money or power
I am the artist... I just need the special vision to be able to paint the story of my life
Copyright © Valerie The Heavy Hearted Poet | Year Posted 2013
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