I thought I would try a poem on my blog today.
The edge land artist
The spray-paint artist finds a concrete space,
his graffiti exhibition becomes a defiant showcase.
This colour extravaganza of artistic expression,
contrasts with a dark mood borne of depression.
His “tag” tells the like-minded he was here,
shows his defiance and the pretence of no fear.
A million miles from the art sales of Rome,
this deprivation-art has found, an edge-land home.
This is the world of financial drought,
the humiliation of a monthly hand-out.
This is the home of the art-world’s lost soul,
buying paint cans with money from the dole.
The tower block looks down on this desolation,
it knows the pain of this deprivation.
It is a cycle that education tries to break,
but this poor soul, it will forever forsake.
He paints his world in a concrete cave,
and dreams of being the rich man’s slave.
The urban artist in his edge-land street,
is never allowed near the rich man’s skeet.
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