A tricky poem that would not leave me alone so like always I wroye it all out. |
-Same Black Line- by Keaton Foster My world is white My escape is blank Waiting for me Always screaming If you please Come to my side Open every eye Widen every notion Beginning with An irreversible introspection Then leading to A monochromatic vacation Where I am the only guest No one else will dare come They all believe that I am insane A crazy man with something to say An enslaved artist burdened by his craft And monstrous visions that often attack Leaving me unapproachable Deeming me completely impossible Few know anything who I am really am Behind many falsehoods I hide Those who know some semblance of truth Assert their right to be repulsed With their crooked fingers they point At such a continuous junction They are all one and the same My world is white My everything is the blank page Waiting to be filled Begging to be stained Only then will it be Utterly changed in every way Never again to be the same But rather a masterpiece Of insanity and nonconformity I cannot help myself I cannot change the man I am I can only do my best to express To lend words, flooding the emptiness That no matter how hard I try I just can’t seem to fill Between every poem written Between every contradiction Is the same black line Dividing my world of white Letting me know that one page One reality has bled unto the next Once such a line is crossed There is no turning back Only advancing on Until my point is made Until my vision is conveyed Until my world of white Is the furthest thing From everything that white means Only then can I erase what was said Only then can I express what is next The same black line finds me each time The same white nothing screams Finding only temporary relief An irreversible introspection Will begin as it always does A monochromatic vacation Will follow suit The blank page will scream Every detainable idea will become free Every conviction will escape Until I have no convictions left Until I am deep within forever’s death Only when this mind and these hands Cease to function as is will I stop Until then my world of white Will be filled with everything That I am capable of… Same Black Line Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013 |