The script extracted from our minds

within the confines of a classroom

that is not poetry

the feelings


the meaning


it is that of mindless amateur literature

and holds no beauty or depth

like the golden words of a

genuine artist

who uses a media of velvet words on a

bland and uninteresting canvas

concrete and blank

yet to be inspired upon

eventually to be made exquisite by the

colorless beauty

of a boundless and never-ending

vocabulary of love



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