Art’s confusion
Even when art is supposed to be about sacrifice, a norm’s removal,
It always finds itself looking up the line somewhere for approval.
Thoughtcrimes necessary, creation for money feels like a contradiction,
Making it seem as if someone needs to pay in order to come to fruition.
Flipping motivation from automatic to manual,
Green brings the pen closer, yet farther, from the paper.
Pulling freedom out of the open air to a number, annual,
Leaving the creative to dry up in a vapor.
Artists would argue that experience doesn’t matter,
That “art is art”, “beauty’s in the eye of the strapped”,
While a career only comes to those whom “master”,
And only the crazy enveloped can climb the ladder.
Show your art to all! The young, bold, and the old!
It’s not art’s fault, but let’s break currency’s hold!
They don’t want us consistent, we’ll break their mold!
Criticism shouldn’t come from those who’ve been sold.
We’re all hypocrites, though.
