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Was I the Sculptor of my Mind?
There's a man who can carve.
Who brought the chisel to make another piece?
I gasped and begged.
Please! carve what's in my mind.
He said, 'Say what you like.'
'But she was too beautiful,' I replied.
She was a work of art that was impossible to carve.
'So how can you create a statuette out of a piece of poetry?' asked the sculptor.
'Look what I found,' I mumbled.
a form of poetry that I couldn't carve myself.
She might be treated like an effigy.
Yet I adore her like a marionette.
To the eye, where do you find such a beautiful figurine?
So this is art, huh? said the sculptor.
Man! I had trouble recalling how I first began to sculpt her.
I even forget where I stopped—did I even stop?
© Havoc
Who brought the chisel to make another piece?
I gasped and begged.
Please! carve what's in my mind.
He said, 'Say what you like.'
'But she was too beautiful,' I replied.
She was a work of art that was impossible to carve.
'So how can you create a statuette out of a piece of poetry?' asked the sculptor.
'Look what I found,' I mumbled.
a form of poetry that I couldn't carve myself.
She might be treated like an effigy.
Yet I adore her like a marionette.
To the eye, where do you find such a beautiful figurine?
So this is art, huh? said the sculptor.
Man! I had trouble recalling how I first began to sculpt her.
I even forget where I stopped—did I even stop?
© Havoc
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