The art of Poesy

b

Uhtceare; one

Self art

I broke up with my abstract of uncertainties,

I trashed out my bin of crumpled timorousness

and I abandoned the canvas of  my  pessimistic

I sent telegrams to my crafted silence,
demanding to comeback.

I cried for the equal color of aplomb
to kiss my character.

I have my hue of war and peace,

I have my tint of forlorn and buoyant,

I  defines recherché.

An implicit and esoteric.

An art made by one artist.