All the beautiful people
Falling from the stars
All the beautiful pictures not on the wall
All the beautiful faces compartmentalized
Resist the images blooming inside
Is this where you close your eyes?
Is this the war you're willing to fight?
You turned art into a product
When a misanthropic jaw tucked
Away the mastery of freeing minds of pulling strings
And the self-indulgent awe-struck
Swarming mobs creating sawdust
Of what used to be ideas that we used to could believe
While the melancholy whispers
Ink a flavored wind that blisters
Onto a naked canvas drawing out the sacred sound
Of nuance in there silent breaths
Of soaking in a perfect mess
Where a vivid blur comes tumbling after a dampened echo of laughter
That pours into the cracks in their souls.
And I see you there
Behind your eyes
Pretending this scene is worth your while
Is this where you go to breathe?
Is this the world you're willing to see?
Must you now be used by brush strokes
The way an empty lover's touch chokes
Away the poetry of tenderness of ecstasy
And the prepackaged meditation
The repression of creation
Frolics in the blindspot of a life of pageantry.