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Oil
on canvas
Baby blue and bottle green
The sky, the grass so bright and clean
Means not to me as it does to them
Yet they know exactly what you mean
A shattered scene, your own earthquake
Show them the great abuse you take
-Saving the reverence of the censoring gods-
Share with them your black heartache
A wasteland, gouged deep and bold
A Grecian god crowned in fool's gold
A price and a value, one big and one small
Anguish, painted. Swiftly sold.
Your troubled soul, your wounded heart
Let it all out through your art
And if your work sickens, sickens you
A bright white canvas, brand new start
by Emma Dalton
Read the story behind this poem
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