Art In Its Forms

People craft from their minds
wonderous sights
and things to inspire.
I craft a world smithed in words
If a picture is worth a thousand words,
then are my words worthless?
Do I rail against the void
Do I try to make sense of all things
and to the end I meet I feel my world
is worth no more than the measure of time that people put into it.

There are pictures to be drawn
but my untrained hands are useless.
My mind is sharp and so with 26 different characters
I craft the world to show the dark and light
the night and day
and all things beautiful and wonderful
and I step back and see....
the black and white staring back at me.

There are no colors here
only those that form in our minds
little theatres playing out the world so that we can hope to see
and in the end the words are nothing more.
And the paintings....and the drawings....and these things
are valued more.

I am not angry, I am not mad....
I am a more base human emotion.
I am jealous.

I ...am a writer, but no less an artist.