Poets and Artists
It's madness sometimes
And maybe regret
It's soothing and calm
Sometimes
It's days since they last slept
You can escape from anything in this world
But not from your thoughts
You can't escape from your mind
It's prison
Coated as something divine.
So the inkpot is never idle
And the canvas never white
It's one thing after another
We are never proud
Art could always be better
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