Shania K. Younce (4-18-1996 / Port Angles)
Art oh, precious it will wither not.
Come and hinder thy thoughts.
The roof of thy mouth is dry and thy lips are cracked from your desperate cry.
Real the beauty of a statue's eyes.
Please the tender redness of thy breath.
Hold part to the painted heavens.
Paint the depths of the black that none can see.
Show yet life and explore with thee.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem ('Art' by Shania K. Younce )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
William Ernest Henley