The Street Artist

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The streets stopped me I had to look So beautiful  Watching the Artist Painting a masterpiece  Creating a vision for another wondering eye   Peaceful bliss Silentley circulating the circumference of the air  Like unoticab...

The streets stopped me

I had to look

So beautiful 

Watching the Artist

Painting a masterpiece 

Creating a vision for another wondering eye

 

Peaceful bliss

Silentley circulating the circumference of the air 

Like unoticable breaths of clean fresh air 

Around his creativity platter 

The sound of chalk hitting the ground 

Like bricks of hail

As he sculptured the outline 

On his Boredom

Digging into his paint full of cuts 

Drawn inside his bucketful of feelings 

The ones he left outside his heart 

Kept in his mind 

His passion was tearing him apart 

I could tell by the painting was cold and dark

I loved his art

He was crafty

Staring at his own reflection 

This was a self portrait 

He didn't have to shed a tear 

The rain will wash this away 

Tomorrow he will start again

 

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