The Painter

I am a painter.
With words on my palette
And a barb in my heart,
I sing for my equals
And do my best
To start a revolution
For the thinkers,
Not the formulas,
For it is these bitter patterns
That always pull me down.

Oh! To be a scholar!
To always have the answer
And never to dwell
On the prettiness of things.
In a world that is harsh,
To never see the sunlight.
Although I know that I would have to sacrifice my spirit
To be one of their number.
This is why I am a painter.

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