roaming the large, spacious gallery, hearing nothing other than the soft echo of footsteps on the cold concrete and an occasional camera shutter. despite my constant state of loneliness, i feel a peculiar connection to my fellow appreciators of classical art. looking at the pieces displayed on the walls is a look into the minds of the creators. it is such a private part of someone's soul portrayed in such a breathtaking way. i feel safe here, i feel like nothing can hurt me anymore.
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Author:
p.c (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: August 26th, 2018 21:43
- Comment from author about the poem: originally written : 8.5.18
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 50
Offline)
Comments1
I too feel like this in a museum but more especially in an art gallery.
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