Underpassed Art

Underpassed Art

A Poem by katnisscat

How can they understand?
The words that flow off the tongue and flick off the teeth 
Are not some scheme to get rich.
Im not in some garage band looking for it's next gig,
Or keeping track of all the people who hurt me so I can get back at them when I'm famous. 
These words are for me.
They are so I can gather my thoughts and speak.  
They are for the nights where I lay in my bed tossing and turning
Because I can't get someone else's words out of my head
So I get up and write my own
Because it lets me escape.

And when she puts the bow to the strings,they hear beautiful notes ringing sharply,
echoing in empty space.
But she sees a story.
She sees a woman running franticly through the woods too afraid to look back.
Sees an old man hugging his son who has grown so much since the beginning of the war.
Sees it before her very eyes.
So while every one else listens closely, 
she hears nothing.
She just watches.

And he is the only one who knows
When he lifts a strong woman up in the air
How much it tears him apart with every graceful sway and leap. 
How the eternal bliss ends as soon as the last not in drowned out by cheering
Which in turn
Is drowned out by the screaming voices in his own head
How he lives for dancing 
But it kills him when he remembers his father scowling in disappointment. 
He could have been a great baseball player
Or engineer.
Or even a god damn fry cook.
But instead he chose "a school girls hobby" as his passion.
But he couldn't quit.
Because it let him be free. 

© 2015 katnisscat

Author's Note

So does any one know how to change the picture that goes with a piece of writing?

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Added on December 13, 2014
Last Updated on January 10, 2015




I write to stop feeling. more..

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