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Sunday, October 26, 2014

Art

Unmoving.
Chilling.
Judging.

In the silence of stares,
The gears in their heads are ever shifting.
Always thinking
Voicing out opinions
But only in hushed tones,
Never any way else.

In the isolation of whispers,
You can't help but get scared.
They're terrifying -
Paintings and Monuments
So bright in their own rights.

And you,
You are nothing to them.

The windows to their nonexistent souls
Are through the eyes.
So in their stoic appearances,
Only one movement is allowed -
For irises to move down
And condemn you for all you are.

And after that one second,
The jury move forward again.
Forgetting all their thoughts -
Forgetting you.

But us,
We never forget.



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