We are a puzzle with missing parts That is why we make art It is a healing start
We are all dream chasers Until pencil meets eraser Until boat meets glacier Reality we must face her When we sacrifice imagination For societal integration We search for placation In lonely play stations And through vacation We experience migration When the results are doubtful And the response a drought mold Because people are skeptical Until there's a shiny scepter sold Then you're put on a pedestal And have your pecker pulled By various industry tools Loading you like a mule With expensive jewels
Art must be the only motive Not climbing any totem Because once you're dead Your art can still be read Audiences may still be fed But there's a frivolous influence So you must be vigilant and prudent To cut that from your life So art may be your wife That works to end strife Yet that kind of help You can't put on a shelf
I strive to make my art timeless Though my pockets are dimeless We live in a world of depression That carries the risk of regression My art could help push past it Now that would be classic
Can be found in my self published poetry book βIcyβ. https://www.amazon.com/Icy-Andrew-Rueter-ebook/dp/B07VDLZT9Y/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=Icy+Andrew+Rueter&qid=1572980151&sr=8-1