There's art in my soul...hey, what's in yours?

There is art in my soul,

and it comes to life when my fingers tap,

fluid,

flowing,

like tree sap.

Art pours,

it paints,

it dances,

it sings,

it breathes,

it exists,

so,

onlooker,

let

it

be

Let what you see be soaked up in your memories,

let it change your vision,

let it change your perspective,

let it change who you are,

let it shape the way you live.

There is always time to make revisions.

Don't try to ignore the art that like dust attacks,

even if it simply lies still such as clothes upon a rack,

there is more beauty to it than what it is,

beauty in the snap, the crackle, the pop, and the lasting fizz

of

<life>