Chyra Rose Luiz
A chubby face, a toothless grin
An ignorant heart lies within
Hand prints and footprints across the porch
Blue on the walls escaping their watch
From pupa to caterpillar
When will this child wither?
A born artist!
How could have they missed
The chaos inside his mind
Blood not paint
Body not canvas
Truly was it all in vain?
For the meaning of art differs across
Each child, each mind, each brain
A rivulet of red, a smear of paint
His wrist, Her canvas, it’s all the same
For the meaning of art differs across
Each child, each mind, each brain
A singer sings, like dancer to dance an artist- paint be his sword
All three are art in different ways, Expressive the only habit
But the meaning of art differs across
Each child, each mind, each brain
When she dips, he lifts
A paintbrush, a blade
When she smears, he tears
Her canvas, his skin
Art, Self-destruction
Tell me aren’t they the same?
she tells the world; he tries the same
One heard, unheard
Self-destruction, oh what a creation
The meaning of unseen art.
Self-destruction equals Art.
For the meaning of art differs across
Each child, each mind, each brain