Do you find your hope groping in the dark
Sloping and waning
While the moon is waxing?
As though all your innermost dreams
And thoughts you hold most dear
Had been paraded through the streets
With mocking and jeering and spitting.
Come with me I say
The revolution starts with us.
Our lights have been put out too often
Wicks go sizzle between The Man’s greasy fingers.
All those people with nothing to offer
But their hearts in ink dots
Or paint swaths
Or sound waves.
Get a real job! They say.
But the art in our veins,
Make life worth living
And it’s so hard to strip it off.
Like the bark of a tree
That without will surely die,
So it would be with us
If we amputate our muse.
Protect your light!
At all costs defend it!
I’ll stand by your side
I’ll have your back.
Let’s have our cake and eat it too,
We’re going to need two cakes.
At least.
At least.
At least.
As all artists know,
The bare minimum is the foundation
For something great.
– Vagabond Prophet
Vagabond Prophet 