Oh... the pain...
when the aesthetics you bring were not appreciated.
Like colours to a black and white canvas, beautiful yet hard to understand.
Like religion, from one to another.
Like music, composed but not heard.
Like a story, penned but not read.
Oh... the pain...
when the wall between them and what you see is a thin veil,
sewn with threads of complexity yet soft to the touch.
When they heartily laugh at what you think should inspire them,
and stare you in the face, blank and unfazed.
How do you break down a wall, when all you have is a cloth and nothing more?
I start wiping, but to when will the wall crumble, only time can tell...
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