Excuse me, but...
Who are you?
No seriously, who are you?
You stick your nose in air,
To look down on others.
You judge them by your standards,
Leaving broken hearts and insecurity.
Crushed dreams under the soles of your judgmental boots.
But, again I ask...
Who are you?!
Because Art is an extension of self.
I am these words.
I am this poem.
And your gavel makes no sound here.