They placed me in an empty box
Medicated on the hour
Padded each and every wall
So I could not hide or cower
But voices spoke
Their cadence dour
Assuring greatness
If I’d devour
The souls of all
I then would tower!
Then I saw a butterfly
Alight upon a tiny flower
And forgot the voices
As I chased a bee into a bower
And there I stayed
The voices sour
To be overthrown
By natures power
This is a series composed of art and what I call micro-verse. I attempt to augment the art through words written spontaneously to match that art. Micro-verse is meant to take you to a deeper place of meaning within the art. If the images and words offensive, just remember that not all art is meant to be cute. Some is meant to make you think and sometimes to even take offense.
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