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The Artist
He walks through the doorway
to the place where he equips himself
with chisels of iron
Here he is an artist
in a studio where the floors are cracked and stained
Working on marble that fights against him; reluctant to change
yet, he continues to pursue the creation of a masterpiece.
Following the footsteps of the Austrian and Italian who began this renaissance.
Today he waltzes into the studio
where the walls emulate the stone they see,
His composers sitting in his ears, commanding him.
He studies the granite intently
knowing full well what needs to be done
He can’t will himself to pick up those unsullied chisels.
Intimidated by the jagged igneous rock,
Instead, he clasps the worn tools; dulled from overuse.
and begins to touch the marble he has worked on for ages
If Venus de Milo has no arms
his sculpture must truly be a work of art
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I wrote this to show the struggle of artists and how they view their work in a generally negative light. That being said I wrote this as a man going to the gym and shortly after not going to the gym.