It kills an artist,
It hurts their soul
And their art.
It hurts their drive and motivation,
When one is called evil
Because their art has death
And it has sorrow,
And when one is called heartless
Because their art has misery
And it has war.
It kills an artist,
When people erase their sign.
When their art is ridiculed
Because it's not like Van Gogh.
When their art is looked down upon
And forced into shame.
Because it is unimpressive.
It kills an artist inside.
Because they sacrifice time
And spirit and energy.
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This is another rant in the form of poetry.
YOU ARE READING
Collected Poems
PoetryA book of poetry that I've written over time. Some are short and some are long. Many of them are sad but some are sweet.
