the truth

No canvas, not even proper training, no art class

I still grabbed hold a pencil and dared to draw a line

No matter how long I practice and scratch the paper

No matter how hard I try, I know, I can’t draw

Because, this thing, the art is not inside me

I don’t give much heed to snickers and jabs

They are merely a truth after all

Like many other truths that rend your gut

Yet honesty saves the time and we pay the price of the pain

Of millions of unaccounted hollow tendons round the spine of time

And the truth will surface from neath a million lies

I pay no heed to positivism

Or those who accept life as it is

I am not for positive people who accept everything

Peace, like suppression, must stifle you

Must choke you to death

And it won’t be a peaceful death

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