The Artist II

A look at an artist life

　

like a painting to an artist the canvas in full view of self to be in the moment

like a distant pier succumb to the shedding of a single tear

one can become anything they wish to be in the moment sealed with a kiss

life can seemingly fall under your feet if one is not equipped spiritually

the glare on the eye of the faint passerby would excuse you sir

reappear in mid air toward the hand of love one hand to hold a heart will mend

tenderness with friends a loving suggestion with a great question

is a challenge to be free a question of time ?

　

many people dissappear under the false garb of compromise twisted lies

your heart is an opened door waiting to be explored onto so much more yet what ?

swimming in the same fish bowl year after year exist as a vapor then am no more

we are all in the same cage here so draw tenderly nearer to make things a but clear

each of us has been given a gift called life amidst the vain glory with strife

a bitter sweet devil that will want you to think about things over & twice

another roll of the dice serving tead and gonjahs all the way from China

the smell of her perfume in my room of romantic personifications

　

why does one equate logic for fear i shed a single tear to draw ever nearer

blinded by science amidst the violence its the call of the wild you lost child

caught up in a dream the fabric of what is torn some may even curse the day they were born

Can see the forest through the trees the smell of a sea breeze

coffee in the morning as a token of our heart felt friendship

the taste of aroma through a filter to penetrate its climatic taste

a powerful explosion in the mind for the walking blind it pays to be kind

walk with me talk with me through the persona between space & time

　

for now the artist hangs his head down low he must bust up the beat to increase its tempo

showing each one of us the way we should go as I shed a tear a bit of Shakespear

young people speaking there minds out toward the socially blind

the Aristocrat or toward the timid politican who wander as if a wizard

it all needs to make sense to become self evident but the artist hasn't even made a dent