is that why?
They say the most beautiful art comes from the most broken hearts.
Tell me, is your heart broken too?
Is that why every word you write unearths a buried emotion?
Tell me, are you wounded too?
Is that why every stroke you paint
Stirs up a tornado of thoughts?
Are those wrists wrought with scars, too?
Is that why every note you play
Evokes an abeyant feeling within?
Are those memories hurtful, too?
Is that why every breathe you take,
Is a sigh in a predictable guise?
Is your soul shattered, too?
Is that why every time you face the world,
You take in some fragments to create a new whole?
Tell me, is your heart broken too?
Is that why every word you write unearths a buried emotion?
Tell me, are you wounded too?
Is that why every stroke you paint
Stirs up a tornado of thoughts?
Are those wrists wrought with scars, too?
Is that why every note you play
Evokes an abeyant feeling within?
Are those memories hurtful, too?
Is that why every breathe you take,
Is a sigh in a predictable guise?
Is your soul shattered, too?
Is that why every time you face the world,
You take in some fragments to create a new whole?
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