An Artist’s Plea for the World to Understand

A/N: So, I figured that I'd post a poem that I wrote a while back, seeing as I'm not only writing down my thoughts in "prose", but in poetic form too...

Daylight shines and I open my eyes,

I've got an attitude to revise.

I rise from slumber's warm cocoon,

My metamorphosis is over all too soon,

Emerging from the ashes of my rage,

This is the dawning of a coming-of-age.

I’ve been asleep for far too long,

I can truly see what is going on.

My character arc reaching a peak,

Yearning for what my soul seeks.

We live our lives through our art,

We let our heads follow our hearts.

Not idealistic, but we have ideals

That we strive to make real.

But when we look at the world today,

We find ourselves alone amid the decay.

Real beauty in this artificial Eden

Is a rarity that is spread far too thin

And slowly dissolving to ash,

With more importance on cold, hard cash.

Certain people watch, intending to condemn,

But who, may I ask, is watching them?

We fight everyday for the right to be free,

To be able to bring back natural beauty

And to share it with the rest of the world,

But how can we, with our lives so unfurled?

Man does not live by bread and science alone,

He needs color and light to fully grow.

As necessary as it is to breathe in and out,

Our art is like a sip of water in a drought.

I hope you liked it. I just had a conversation with my best female friend over Skype, I'm making headway, slow and steady, with my writing "career", and I'm chilling with my more open-minded family this weekend. So far, no complaints, other than the reading that I have to do tomorrow...and the hope that I'm not going to get yelled at for whatever reason from HK's Skype call tomorrow morning. Anyways, back to writing for me - those poems and short stories may write themselves out in my head, but they won't on the computer.

Thanks for listening.