Dear Little Art started empty white and plain,
What message brings you to this aim?
You're a little odd, abstract, a little chaotic with beauty,
The eyes that see your exterior don't see your personality.
Little art messed up, tumbled and torn,
What made you say you're useless, lost, scattered and a mistake born?
Little art, the ink in your soul is not stained in darkness and pitch black,
Little art, you're the embodiment of renaissance; your colors are more than that.
Little piece of art, why do you seek a portrait that is different from your language?
Don’t let your craft be held just because this is not the time of your age.
This moment might say you’re a shade of monochrome,
But let this shade be known as the start of a sanctuary that you own.
Little art that once had a huge audience in their museum,
Theatres and concerts witnessed in a grand coliseum.
Little art that once was grand in history,
Let your posterity tell the legend of your story.
Little art, your physical body may be buried, forgotten and decayed.
But your soul will transcend and someday you’ll be honored.
Only time will tell how you'll shine like a twinkling star in the eyes of the hopeless,
For a piece of art commences in plain white of emptiness.
BINABASA MO ANG
Under the Stars I Write
Poetry[A COLLECTION OF RANDOMNESS AND POETRY] "Under the stars I write, Under the moon so bright. In the darkness of my heart, I hold on to the light. Thoughts in my head written in paper and pen. Voiceless words composed of memories by fate." - Hanna...
