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Faeth Kidd Poem
Every great artist must be a little insane
Because nothing that vivid could come from an average mind
Nothing that twisted could spring to life
On canvas and not in the brain
The insanity of it all
The thoughts twisting in little spirals
Nagging, tugging at corners of the mind
That for most are empty corridors filled with cobwebs
Searching for a crack in the dam, seeking a way out
They hit the wall and back in again they turn
scoring invidious trenches deeper and deeper
Leaving damage in its wake
Maddening to not be understood
To be so clever that expressing yourself is so outside the realm of possibility
That you have to die to be known
Through the broken windows of your soul
Glimpses of what life is like inside your head
Not a portrait, never truly elucidated
A tortured, drunken poet,
Mad on life’s nauseating boredom
The fantasy of being known come to life on a page
But never real.
Copyright © Faeth Kidd | Year Posted 2026
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Faeth Kidd Poem
The hours passed like seconds
And stripped our youth away
The years they passed like miles
From the window of a plane
As life goes on and ticks away
And the glass runs out of sand
The hours pass like seconds
Times a curse upon this land
Copyright © Faeth Kidd | Year Posted 2026
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Faeth Kidd Poem
Life is a court and I am its jester
A miserable comic with a knack for obsolescence
The bells on my hat draw disgraceful attention
To the tasks I cannot juggle
And the knives I cannot dodge
And yet, I make them laugh
If only at my misery
At least I can’t say
I’m nobody’s fool.
Copyright © Faeth Kidd | Year Posted 2026
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