She Who Stole The Sky
She siphoned just enough color from the sky every day to paint her own horizon.
She captures the silhouettes in the pictures to remind herself that she has to give it back someway,
Throwing her mediums at the darker parts of the world because her project just can not remain so grim.
Oils, chalk, sketches of the mundane.
Photos of life that she believes everyone deserves.
Her philanthropy rivals that of indoctrinated saints,
But stands on its own among giants of virtue!
I often wonder if she could make a view potent enough with all the pieces of the places she's procured if she would outright replace it with her own or if she'd settle for less than what was reserved?
I met the girl who could steal the sky and put back before anyone even notices
Sometimes she tells me what happens with the parts no one even realizes is gone.
There's a sliver in every artwork she creates,
And even when she's not working
Someone always appreciates the exhibits even if she never leaves the lights on.
