Artistic sin

We create curves
Out of straight lines
And on plain pages
We paint colours of pain

That dress that covers
The totality of your grief
Is a costume they made
In the theatre of nightmare

If only you choose
To look up from the valley
And the orchestrated music
That keeps you dancing beneath

There is a secret sweetness
In the cane that beats
But we grow up
The only way up is down

I’m getting stronger
Like cement mixed in water

Bose