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
