Rebellion Art

 

My Art follows no Rules.

No Grammar or structure;

Just seems as simple as fools.

 

But truth be told,

You would be the fool

To underestimate,

My Rebellion Art.

 

Because my Art and Rebellion,

Stem from,

Within.

Yet the Damage on my

Skin,

Is a reflection of his

Sin.

 

A lie told too many a time to be

Serious,

As my life may seem.

Your life, and the life of you before is

Too much,

To continue on with this life; a chore.

 

Life doesn’t tell you:

“It is like this” or “It is like that.”

We discover the World,

Rounded or flat.

 

And we do so in our curious hearts.

Those hearts that end the life of one Cat,

But unlike the Cat,

I have only have one shot,

At my Rebellion Art.

Reviews

[Baby Ricochet]

You know you're being your true self when the people around you start getting pissed off. Good poem.