Unnoticed

Folder: 
Prose Poetry
The canvas painted in ink moves with a pulse of hustle and bustle.
I have been penciled in 
The graphite softly covers the grooves
My silhouette motionless as the ink whizzes by in constant motion. 
Ever so slowly the blurred Monet essence of me is removed
Erased from the canvas without notice. 
I stand in the swirls of color wrapped like a scarf. 
But, in-between, like a Myofacial sheathing, I am shrouded in black. 
It is hard to see sometimes
the black
smudged to gray I appear to play
and then back to onyx black. 
I've been sketched on the canvas in the crowd, on the train, 
in school, at the fair, and on the plane
But, to my despair
I don't fit in.
Erased I am.
So often sketched as a bystander
in graphite black
only to be 
erased again ever so slowly
the deletion goes unnoticed.
I don't fit in. 
One day
I won't be able to be sketched back in. 
The artist will choose a new soul. 
One of vibrant color in graceful motion. 
The life of the canvas will continue without pause, its hustle and bustle. 
I simply go
Unnoticed. 
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nightlight1220's picture

I have seen too many epitomies

I have seen too many epitomies of "penciled pleadings" with words hidden from blindfolded eyes, but wrote with indelible ink upon the corridors of my heart.

.....weak hearts fancy the satin feel of a padded blindfold, you know.. a single voice can change the entire world.

....


...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "

 

PurpleDragonfly's picture

The poem Unnoticed

Ah, the Butterfly Effect... I could only hope that one day I could create such a ripple effect. :-) 


Standing in a mad world of insanity as a walking dead. 

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nightlight1220's picture

You most likely are now, you

You most likely are now, you just aren't aware how you have a hand in it. Anyway I liked the poem and the way you used pencil vs pen.... clever.

....


...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "