Beckynewellart@gmail.com
Ghandis pencils had a point
Ghandis pencils had a point.
It has begun, this beautiful thing.
You hold it’delicate thing’ in your hand
New born, black, and quickly to decay.
By your holding, or not holding, you change it’s very circumstance,
By your very look.
As it raises its already greying head, death draws ever nearer,
Grey consumes it.
Fleeting beauty as you penetrate its delight.
Light draws ever nearer.
It disappears to nothing.
A speed dictated by the turning of a universe misunderstood.
From black to white
With all the grey shades in between where life takes place.
A grey that holds no value unless we give it so.
We choose to give it pleasure,
Or not.
A death defying human touch,
Or not.
By
Stephen Newell.