The Artist


I gaze at him, he's in his zone.
There are people here, but he's alone.
His calm expression like a fresh fallen snow.
Uninterrupted, the only peace he knows.
His lines flow, like a spider weaving it's web.
Wishing I knew what ran through his head.
The thoughts he may have while in his own heaven,
the burdens of his life seem lessened.
He's pouring his heart out for the whole world to see.
It's beating and bleeding and beautiful to me.
I gaze at him, he's in his zone.
He knows I'm here, but he's alone, he's home...

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