“this was deftly whittled”
i attempted to explain
(this was muddled together)
i thought silently
“painfully molded by the hands of a master”
(drunkenly mashed into being by a failure)
i said to myself
“yes, you’re right. this is a masterpiece.”
he picked it up in awe.
I muttered, as he walked away.
(fool.. we are merely subjects of our duplicity..)
– Sheila Sea