...The story of a girl in London, England


Sonnet 26


The artist knows the world in which he lives

So well because he watches, sits apart.

The resonance; the truth he aptly gives

Description to; the words, which find the heart

And pierce it through with observations frank;

The subtleties; the deft accuracy

Of life as lived, scrawled into pages blank—

All this because, apart, the artist sees.

His eyes detect the world, as through a scope.

The smallest particles, enlarged, disclose

Entire worlds contained, and in them, hope.

The hope we all could see, if we so chose.

For in the common things, we find the truth—

Repeated; found in death and sought in youth.

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