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Words as Paintbrushes
I'm an artist with my language,
Mixing phrases on my pallet 'til I get the perfect hue.
Metaphors on the spectrum range from pitch black to sky blue.
Graceful brush strokes with the pen, verses vivid as a morning bloom.
Just like a fresco, the poetry just fills the room,
Clever twists for readers to exhume,
Just have to read between the lines.
Each letter shining bright, words light up a constellation.
Rhythm'll move your feet along with the vibrations,
It's pure elation,
Then concluded with an exclamation,
Standing back, looking critically with deliberation,
Finally I've made my new creation.
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