museum
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A fancy sign and open door,
Is the entry where I found you.
Leaving me wanting more,
Eyes fixed to you like glue.
See, I dabble in the arts myself,
Though I haven’t had the time.
Tall, stone and gray,
We walk into the dull box-shaped building.
Inside looks the same.
Where is the color? Where is the art?
A sign reads “Monet”.
I wanted them to see me as art
to stand in awe and marvel
at the thought that such beauty existed
but i am not a monet
i am not a picasso
and as they realized that
“somewhere, there is a museum of unfinished surgeries.” – Dylan GarityI. the man who runs this place wears blue Nikes.he keeps them clean for the most part, aside
