S O U L P O E T

It was written in graffitti

I guess its hard to understand that I was raised in alleyways,
I was raised surely the hard way,
That I roamed the streets when the snare drums played the beat and I marched my way down alleys when the only things buzzing were
Street lamps or,
Junkies.

But don't you worry
for my bible is written in the form of graffiti,
Ever changing like this earth.
This beautiful beautiful earth on which we pontificate
For as selfish creatures we roam concrete jungles and are hunted by pigs with weapons,
When the only weapon we need,
Is art.

And who are we even fighting?
For when you look closely
We seem to be fighting ourselves.
We are bombing ourselves.
We are at war with ourselves
And what better truth is there then that written by those who believe?
Who believe in doing the right thing,
That blank walls are dead, sad and lonely,
Who are these heroes we force into the night?
Who are these talented children we believe we must fight?
Rather then snatch the spray can away,
Why not give them something better to portray.
This world is theirs too.

In every stage of my life,
Art has been my Christ,
My lord, my saviour,
The inspiration to be better then what I am.
For I used to sprawl ugly letters,
And now I paint buildings to make children laugh,
Mothers cry,
Fathers marvel,
And my sister proud.

For she is an artist too,
For she taught me that ugly letters do nothing for you,
That art is the form of the body,
The mind,
The spirit.
That you can use art to heal,
That you can use art to relate to how others feel,
She taught me I don't even have to use a spray can,
My sister is the reason I sing and love dance,
There are many forms of art,
And my bible comes in the form of art,
For it was written in graffiti then sung too,
Then listened too,
Then danced too,
Art is a cycle.

Art is my bible.