You’re so original it stings.
It develops inside me a picture of a longing little girl.
She watches you with a pen in her head scribbling down your words.
Slowly that girl realizes you’re a piece of art.
She wonders if the other girl who owns you can see you in the same light.
Pondering begins on how she could send you to a museum.
To be hung against the walls painted by ordinary men and yet dazzled by others.
The other one owns your copyrights.
Too bad. So Sad.
If the other girl had owned you she would have let you go.
No trademarks and little circled R’s at the end of your name.
She’d let you be the art you are.
And she’s too afraid to spill this contract along your lips.
So instead the only ink will be on this page.
You’re so original it burns.
And I’m the little girl feeling it’s heat.
I don’t want it to go away.
Don’t let it.
Let me admire you for only a few more seconds.
Created: Jul 20, 2010Document Media