Tue, 08/04/2015 - 12:11 -- Kielace

If art is happiness, what do you when you can't make art?

For six long years I've captured beauty around me with a click

From the begining of my craft it all started with a click

Making prints, burning rolls, all from the sound of one soft click

The joy and happiness of all these photos continued to build click

But as I began to grow and learn my craft I started to look at others clicks

Heroes of the streets named Bresson, Capa, and Lange with their thunderous clicks

Making the world turn and love and think while I just click

I know I'll make some friends in town to share the joy but it was all just one impenatrable click

And slowly there were less clicks

How can I make art when nobody notices my click

In my life there were things that just weren't starting to click

My relationships, my schooling, the outside world, there were no clicks

I started thinking that maybe the loudest click would be the sound of a gun going click

Pulling back the hammer there was my click

But no, fuck that, then it started to click

I don't need to seek others approval for me to make clicks

I remembered the times of wasting film and taking photos just for the pure joy brought by a click

I went and picked up my camera and it released the shutter as fast as I could, indiscriminate clicks

This is my world and I decide what makes me happy, to hell with the others these are my clicks





This poem is about: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741