Submitted by Anusha
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He is a piece of art.
An art painted with his own tears.
Carved in detail with his scars, creating his own literature.
His eyes with a pitch-black story, swirling with endless worries.
Flawed in every way possible, creating a beautiful disaster.
Imperfection might be the way he showcases himself,
but perfection might be the display.
He is an untitled painting,
a mystery yet to be found,
a treasure yet to be cherished.
A pure stereoscopic picture,
designed only for a few to see.
He, himself is a walking masterpiece.
A masterpiece trying to find his dead artist.
Poet's Corner 