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Literature Text
What is it that you have done to me?
where flow and syllables have taken control.
where lighting is key to a good photo,
even if it's just for your facebook.
And while I would have said,
you two look so cute,
that lovely fuzzy border
with the hearts in the corner,
could terribly use some work.
And while I want to say
the lighting is not right
it really doesn't matter,
because they are not
photographers.
And when they type a few lines
into a facebook status
about how much love hurts,
and I'm sitting here thinking
rhymezone.com could use,
just a few more clicks.
And I type the words lovely,
and all of the sudden,
a critique feels the need,
to show it's ugly head,
on a piece they don't even mean,
to be a form of art.
Art, what have you done to me?
I read petty poetry
from those who are not writers,
and I can't help but secretly
pick it apart.
I look at the photos
by those who do not photograph,
and all I hear in my mind,
is critique.
Art, you, you are not a love,
you are an addicts disease.
you're culprit,
that prods at my mind,
in every corner,
now making what's nothing,
into something not there.
where flow and syllables have taken control.
where lighting is key to a good photo,
even if it's just for your facebook.
And while I would have said,
you two look so cute,
that lovely fuzzy border
with the hearts in the corner,
could terribly use some work.
And while I want to say
the lighting is not right
it really doesn't matter,
because they are not
photographers.
And when they type a few lines
into a facebook status
about how much love hurts,
and I'm sitting here thinking
rhymezone.com could use,
just a few more clicks.
And I type the words lovely,
and all of the sudden,
a critique feels the need,
to show it's ugly head,
on a piece they don't even mean,
to be a form of art.
Art, what have you done to me?
I read petty poetry
from those who are not writers,
and I can't help but secretly
pick it apart.
I look at the photos
by those who do not photograph,
and all I hear in my mind,
is critique.
Art, you, you are not a love,
you are an addicts disease.
you're culprit,
that prods at my mind,
in every corner,
now making what's nothing,
into something not there.
© 2010 - 2024 WorldWar-Tori
Comments8
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A fascinating and oh-so-well crafted look at an "addiction" different from so many others, yet one that afflicts many of us here. I know you do a lot in this community and know that of which you speak. Thank you.
And Congratulations on a DLD Pick of the Day! It's beyond fine writing and into an entirely new concept.
[And here I am, in my addiction, wanting to mention a couple easy typos to fix.]