An artist has his canvas and paints, charcoal and
pastel. Musicians have their instruments to
make ideas gel, and yet they are the same
you see, with creativity.
This is how they pass their thoughts to
posterity. The sculptor with block of stone,
beauty he creates.
The photographer up at every dawn,
sunrise he awaits.
And so their vision passes on down
from man to child.
And so the vision passes on becoming
much more wild.
The poet with his pen and ink and parchment.
Novelist and newsman making in this world
a little dent.
To give ones perception of the soul to mankind
is the hardest thing a person could find.
Critics are harsh and ‘oft unforgiving.
Sometimes i don’t think their amongst the living.
And so you strive on, keep trying for better.
Perfection cannot be art until you let it.
Just let it flow out of you smoothly and slow.
If it right then you’ll surely know.
And no man can judge another.
He don’t know the tale unless he has been there.
So let your art be part of your very soul.
Plant part of yourself, you will reap
what you sow.
Perfection cannot become art until you let it.