he says that poetry has lost its beauty because we put ourselves into it. and the art of the abstract brilliance is lost
but i say without the soul apparent then what is there to connect to and we sacrifice emotion at what cost?
and he says that self-fulfillment is the only way to inspire yourself to do more
but if you deny yourself nothing then what is there left to explore?
and again he says love is just a kinder name for hate
but what if love is the only thing that makes life easier to take?
and he sats the average poet's dazzling because they live the work they couldnt write and the master throws his color away because he pours it all into his writing
but if you dont give it everything and make it a work of art, than whats the point of writing at all and are you really there or just hiding in the lining?
and in conclusion he says that genius is shallow and only the physical beauty lasts forever
but what if its your intellect that lets you see her as beautiful even in that oversized sweater?