THE ARTIST



Why do they judge me with one fell swoop,
Why do they paint my entire life with a single color;
As though all those hours and days and years,
Could be summed up with one grand splash;
Red or purple or even black.

Viewing a painting describing a scene,
Many colors, contrasts and hues;
Not a canvas with one dull shade,
But a collection of dozens, hundreds or thousands.

My existence is infenitely more complex,
Multi-hued, shifting, separating, coalescing,
Growing, learning, withering and dying,
Ever changing.

How dare anyone paint my entire existence,
Using one dull, stereotyping, labelling,
Boxing in, limiting, degrading "color".

I am an artist attempting to paint a life.
They the dullard, defacing my beautiful canvas,
Splashing my painfully painted scenes,
With their one cruel, cutting color.
That is all they know how to do.
For I am the artist, they merely the destroyer.


(c) 2003 MSW