Friday, 26 May 2017

The Falsitude of Creating

Is it possible to 
write and not be
a thief? Or is the 
very act of existing
stealing from the lived 
experiences of others -
not always those 
brighter or bolder, but
those dull and dimwitted 
too. Stealing. From those 
with everything. And 
stealing, even more, from 
those with nothing.

Perhaps this is the true
nature of the world.
Theft. By each and for 
each. Until we sit together
under a common blanket
of creativity - each weave
threaded by yarn stolen
from her neighbour's wheel.

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