Art is the fabric of our society The proof that we once lived That we are humans and not beast It is the evidence of intelligence
But it's so **** hard to define Art can be from the sixteenth chapel to a pillow case From Romeo and Juliet to a simple student essay Art has a broad horizon It mean so much more than what we give it credit for The possibility of art never subsides And I can never define it
Art is not special because it looks pretty Or because it is made with feeling Art is special, for it's up to interpretation That you can look at the Mona Lisa and say she is a tease Or read the road less travailed and say "he's not the smartest man" See, even if you got nothing but hate for the art it's done it's job It made you think made you wonder and contemplate Even if you hate all art of any type The beauty will still exist Hate can't stop that
So what the hell is art Is nature art Or is art Our Representation Of our nature Of all the beauty and pain That we see That we feel That we desire, For others To see What we see For them to feel what we felt To contemplate what we contemplated To wish, hope, dream like we do? Is that who artists are No more than copying machines Is this what art is a faded out copy Of the artist's love
Or is art undefinable That this is one of the Most simplistic Thing That to brake it down Is to lose a meaning It's like if we define it That's all it will be It will not shift with time And it will be taught Just as it is and not A indefinite concept That can morth into Any thing you wish It to be
So who am I to define what brings joy into the heart of others I'm not special No more than the next guy So no more labels for me I will let art become What I can't imagine I will let it sift and change And never more Will I try to bind it With my definitions With my labels I will just create it The way I wish for it to be