Analytical Thinking

Regurgitated info spills out of my ears, I read the passage for the tenth time. Pointless analyzed text pours out of my mouth, Technical terms burning holes in my creative mind. Efforts upon efforts supporting a theme, Whilst my poetry slips away. Taking another’s creation of art And tearing it apart like we’re inhumane. Blood drips out of the carcass of art in form of Motifs, characters, metaphor, and setting All used to describe the art in a way, In a way the author likely didn’t intend. Themes destroy originality and creation, But we’re intellectual if we find one throughout. Someone’s story meant to convey their own tale, Used, while we make it our own, like we understood. Life is art and we squeeze and we squeeze, Until life no longer remains. We scratch and we mangle till the art has now crumbled, And the reader still burdened with disdain.