"I want to write like you,"
I get to hear, often.
Should I feel happy?
Slightly.
Have I ever wanted to write like you?
Like anyone?
The closest,
I thought,
Was once when I wanted to paint,
Like someone.
I was young,
And my head was full of wilderness.
No,
I do not wish to paint like her anymore,
Or you.
Wisdom tells me I cannot,
And ethics tell me
I should not.
Any replication would belittle
The art to craft.
I could only appreciate,
Be inspired with a work of art.
I'd much rather be your painting,
Static in my lyrics,
As I watch the world pass by.
I get to hear, often.
Should I feel happy?
Slightly.
Have I ever wanted to write like you?
Like anyone?
The closest,
I thought,
Was once when I wanted to paint,
Like someone.
I was young,
And my head was full of wilderness.
No,
I do not wish to paint like her anymore,
Or you.
Wisdom tells me I cannot,
And ethics tell me
I should not.
Any replication would belittle
The art to craft.
I could only appreciate,
Be inspired with a work of art.
I'd much rather be your painting,
Static in my lyrics,
As I watch the world pass by.
1 comment:
Nice.last 3 lines.. ❤
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