The Monster

The artist paints the world
Through rose colored glasses
With a fantasier’s soul
And it is a pretty street urchin on the canvas

The realist sees
The hideous monster
As it is and always will be
While it poses for the artist to paint

The artist cries out at the realists words
Burdening him with labels to load him down
To break his spirit
But it is to no avail as the realist does not waiver

The realist tears the glasses
from in front of the artist’s eyes
Only for the artist to turn his head
until his glasses protect his view again

As long as the artist will not see
And the realist will not waiver
Nothing will change
And the monster laughs

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About The Rural Iowegian

I am the Rural Iowegian of www.ruraliowegian.wordpress.com a published author and an award winning photographer. I use this space to speak my mind. God Bless.
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