Tuesday, January 15, 2013

ARTIST'S DEATH


An artist is dying,
Unpublished, unrecognized and unknown
Born for a true value, love
He is dying in the world of false values

A world that seeks money, respect and power
Power, to stamp someone down
Respect, to feel their might
Money, to buy rich lands of the town

He is dying, unable to smell the reeks
For this world has such filthy seeks
Oh, what a day has come and what a night?
Fading is now, which was once a refulgent light

Nascent and naïve his works are
Beautiful and pure his thoughts are
None knows that he wrote beautiful lines
Neither his neighbors nor his parents
And those who knew never approved it

Yet he wrote for love, with love, about love
What a fool he is? The world uttered at his back
For his thoughts are their dirty minds beyond

Notice his art, at least on his deathbed
For that, it would let your forget many bothers
The pale face that wrote about the romance
Romance of the lover, the son, and the mothers
Notice him, for this, is the final chance

He gave so much and never got it back
Forgot, he had one truth in this world
It takes whatever we give and never gives back

2 comments:

  1. Loved reading this poem! Many bitter facts presented here. I can't understand why people don't appreciate art!

    Awesome poem Brad!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks a lot Valli for the comment I love this poem

      Delete

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I firstly declare here that all the content written in the blog is exclusively written by me and I hold the copyrights of each and everything. Be it a poem or a movie review. Also, the videos or photographs I upload or attach are exclusively owned by me. This declaration is important in a world that seems so worried of piracy. The prime purpose of these blogs is to put my writings and photographs on the net. and well to start with.... I live in my mind, and existence is the attempt to bring my thoughts into physical reality, I celebrate myself, sing myself and I am always happy in my own company.....I am not the best in the world but I strive for excellence and thats what keeps me alive... Talking much about oneself can also be a means to conceal oneself--Friedrich Nietzsche