Have you ever seen a white canvas with a black mark on the side
or a yellow stain
or a brown rust
or a blue rip
And Thought it anything other than artistic?
was it instinctive or was it taught?
Now we'll never Masterpiece it
Now We know where to start
The possibilities perform endless loops of backtracked memories
running in the way
like some freakstorm memory shrouded in optimistic ability
clear wide clarity sparkling perfectly aesthetically
You're insane! To be so dismayed
and then so elated
and I go outside and see sunshine smile against blue backdrop sky
and rotting things on the floor
and I feel
Like this city is mine only because it is also yours
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