Bragging Artist
You yell in your style from the hot roof top
Nobody lends ears but you don’t ever stop
You pronounce you’ll make a great name
As an artist, in loud voice you do proclaim.
You say there are colors hidden in your eye
We all know it's nothing but a white flat lie
So you think you carry the gene of an artist
The concealed laughter people can’t resist.
You surmise your brush has a Monet touch
But your trees are a cluster of plumb crutch
Something like water in river is ink opaque
You can’t even make the semblance of fake.
When you gloat you’ve got the Picasso flair
Crude art shapes daub the pallid paint layer
Formless faces are entangled in web of cubes
As a bizarre pile of squeezed out color tubes.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
