Sunday, November 7, 2010

ink.

the squid-man, they call
them, the people with their ink.
their canvas stretch and sink
with the melody of the skin.
dogma thrives but not every case true.
for each paints its own story
and their personality,
should it be
uncouth, could it be regrets, may it
even be joy.
which is which, it takes time to see
but only when our arrogance falls.
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