What do I know of what you say.
I live my life from day to day.
The strangers come and slash and burn
I ache to complain — but must “wait my turn”.
Then comes this artist to paint my life,
But really I just want him to paint my wife.
I smile with respect
He picks up his brush
By the artist
The artists sees more, sees the torment and pain
Paints it out clearly again and again
Tells the world the bleak story
of histories gory;
of flashing curved knives
slicing homes without names;
of wrecked angular lives
through rectangular frames;
The world needs to know
And I know I can show.
My pictures are clear
And are deeply sincere
And you’d better believe what you’re seeing!!
By the potential buyer of the picture
Its nice there’s so much red.
It’ll go with the wall in the hall.
“What’s that you said?”
There’s a message and all?
O, Yes,
A message.
Well the faces are nice
The style is intriguing
Look at the brushwork
It’s all so appealing
You know what my dear,
It’s so avant-garde
We’ll give it a place —
Outside in – the yard.