Anything, Everything
You can’t force it,
It’s like pulling teeth.
But the teeth are words to render the rhyme complete.
Try as you might, try as I may,
A line will come, it will find its own way
The perfect couplet will occur in its time
But until then, wait
Because tugged inspiration is not worth a dime.
I will not die for my art
Does that offend?
Does my noncommittal attitude bend
You out of shape?
Are your words richer than mine,
Is your mind more inclined
To weep at the illustrious beauty of rhyme
Am I pretentious?
You proclaim me to be
You see
A soul trying to lift herself higher,
And you sneer
At the tears in her sleepless eyes
The pain in her sighs
As she paints to realise
The dreams behind those haunted eyes
Alive and absent of sense
Condensed with colours for you to see
Me
I am the artist you seek
Words paint and a canvas of mind
Designed with no intention
to offend or praise
But you raise your voice for us all to hear
The fear plain
As your insults rain on my ears
And you proclaim that the artist must die for her art.
You cry, there is no blood in her ink.
But I think,
Art must breathe life.
If strife is your brush,
The lush green around will fail to catch your attention.
Paint a Mental Picture 