There’s life whithin these fingers
There’s love whithin these palms
There’s hate whithin those memories
But they’re all left behind.
There’s mind within this body
Faith within this heart
There’s plenty more to give them
Yet they search no such part.
The darkness will not leave me
The palettes of my soul
They’re empty since the beginning
Yet have so much to show.
My brush dries and so it dies
This beauty right within me
Solemn as ever could be
Yet still do inside shine.

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Robert L. Martin
over 4 years

good poem


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