Who are we without you?
Words on paper with no one to read
Or a beautiful painting colors unseen.
Sonnets written would lack subject,
A song’s lyrics with no soul to dissect.
Philosophies stay trapped in the statue of their creators.
History shattered on pots made from mothers
Graphite smears away on the back of our hands
Libraries burn with the history of unknown lands.
Without you, thoughts would be glued to an unopened page.
Without you, books would dust and paintings rot of age.
Without you, trauma and love would be nothing but a moment.
Without you, our souls would merely be a quotient.
Who are we without you?
Connections formed deep within,
Something rooted in our skin.
What is art without the consumer?
All our passion, merely a rumor.
