david wells
a poem in 4 parts
acrylic, collage & ink
4 1/2 x 20
babys in the architecture
we build off ourselves
individuality spawned by modernity
keeps us spontaneous, but it brings us nowhere...

putting it in my hand does nothing!
but drinking it mends my ways
giving me thoughts to think,
the places to visit & the people to see.

daringly walk to my side…keeping the cloth over my eyes.
not knowing who is there but content with my company
abrasions on my forehead
too many bumps in the road

rinsing my face of this blood doesn't always stay,
& 1 time, i c that 2 times it returns a little bit darker
i dilute it with my optimism
& soon i seem happy to all.
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