Posted in Random Poems I Find Meaningful

Skin, Blood, Heart, and Soul

If you saw my About page on this website, you’ll remember I mentioned having science running in my blood but having a soul hungry for the arts. It’s an internal struggle at times. I’m good at science, math, and perceptual ability. My hobbies include puzzles like tangrams, sudoku, and strategy board games like the Game of Generals. However, even if I thrive in the logical world, they can never satisfy my soul. I’m not an artist. I don’t know how to draw or write but I love literature, I love history and culture. It’s a clash of interests which always makes me crave for more than I need. But I guess, that’s who I am.

Skin, Blood, Heart, and Soul
By: Anita Marie

When I was a child, I loved crayons
Especially that 68 crayon set I had my eyes on
Just cause it had the color flesh and the color gold
Both colors I’ve ignored as I grew old

My mom, she liked it that I loved coloring
I decorate her cards with blues, yellows and pink
Still, I feel like the flowers I’ve drawn can never conceal
The empty white spaces that are yet to be filled

So I stopped coloring, just so
Instead, shifted my attention to what I know
People say science run in my blood and it courses through my veins
No one thought I’d look at graffiti or decorated pots of porcelain

But people always assume what they want
They carve you into a masterpiece for fun
Artists in their own right, with words coloring your being
Regardless of what you felt or what you’re thinking

Art. Literature. Pieces eternalized by the renaissance
Yet my hunger for the arts did not fit me so I kept my distance
To be honest, I can’t draw, and I can’t write
I only put words together and out of spite

Because of the thousands of feelings I feel inside
A longing for the unknown is something I cannot hide
So I keep books, stories and poetry all the same
To feed this half-artist, half-scientist-ish brain

Austen. Shakespeare. Lewis Caroll.
Sun Tzu. Dickens. And George Orwell
Why do they make me feel so alive?
Why do they give me the energy to survive?

Questions that formulas cannot answer
Despite the calculations and the help of a tutor
We can search galaxies but it can never explain why
Because our souls are honest and they cannot lie

My skin is a canvas, yet it’s colored flesh
My blood is science, so alive and fresh
My heart is fragile, yet it’s made of gold
My soul is a story, just waiting to be told

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