art isn’t dead, but are you?

we express ourselves through our clothes and shoes

in today’s society Davinci’s paintings aren’t cool

5,000 years ago and the artist is dead

aesthetics and drugs stuck in our head

Van Gogh painted the stars and the blue in the sky

he also cut his ear off and despised his life

teens are committing suicide and slitting their wrist

the blood is spewing out and they are taking pics

posting on social media because self harm is cool

when really you’re just being a tad bit cruel

splitting our veins to become an aesthetic

these kid are not art, these kids are pathetic

how dare you expect me to be empathetic

the red blood falls on the floor

we don’t have  anymore razors so grab your paintbrushes and draw some more


too much blood comes out and you don’t know what to do

paint palettes and sketchbooks still have some use

art is not dead,

but are you?

you accept my intricacy.

you adhere those who judge my complexity

you are fine with me being this way and I don’t understand why

do I not frustrate you?

I try to wither your heart

you just rejuvenate

you are the start and the end

raised to make amends


you’re untainted

I haven’t wrapped my finger around how

this world which is clouded by sinister creatures and dark gloomy skies

you seem to be the only one truly alive

the darkness doesn’t phase you

which puts me in a haze

you’ve learned to accept the night and enjoy the day

even if the sky decides to become grey

and cascades you with rain

there you stand in colors, while we all become drenched

am I the one who is really complex?