Shallow Art

A Poem by rerenu

About not being able to express one's self adequately and the self disgust that comes along with it.

Shallow Art
It�s a shallow ugly pace that I walk, to someone else�s march, to someone else�s song because mine is not good enough.
I don�t sing in harmony.
I don�t sing loud enough.
My voice betrays my true heart.
The colors I weave in my mural in life are messy and my lines are not straight.
They are scribbles of a confused mute.
My heart must be muted, I am deaf too.
When will I be dead then if it looks like all else is failing me too?
Where is my human glue?
If I wasn�t forgotten, what can I do, because nothing looks good, at least nothing I can do.
It all looks rather mucky and like gibbly gob gue.
Why do all others have such a personality and I feel as appealing as
Someone underneath the gum of someone�s old thrown out and forgotten shoe?
Radiant blue orange green and blue,
Its empty, an empty box without no shoes.
Hollow body, hollow art
What belies the jewels are a stolen heart.
Rainbow of colors only serve to feign this skeleton in a drought.
Empty black, but not even
But even black is full of its own color
No light is worse than black, dark or bad art
Nothing makes it fall away.
I can�t cry it out
I can�t scream like a dog or shout.
Pain really doesn�t have a name.
It�s a really really mean game.
It has no rules and even if you don�t want to play it haunts you night and into the day
Sleeping eyes don�t mean that sleeping dogs lie, there is no rest in my pain, while it�s not in vain, I don�t have any solution to my soul pollution.
That is why I crave to freeze my life in this moment.
Where there is only this moment, no second behind me chasing me if I am cut off.
No future to crush me if there is a cliff before me.
I can rest right here in my own frozen moment of clarity with some space around me.
Only in this moment is when I feel free.