I learned very quickly that life,
is but a work of art—a show
A production in which all of the world is a stage
And every letter, a painting
So all words—subject to interpretation and imagination
And feelings make up colors
Our entire lives, I learned, are separate works of art
And we make them as beautiful as we want them to be.
I learned that my life, was my own; I made it beautiful by being so. I learned my life was my art; art that I had infinite power to create
And still
I only wanted to be a poet.


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