Art torn apart by your contemporary
So focused on
Childish fairy tales
And fictional
And harmless scenes
You're so disgusted (and turned) your look at ordinary
People around you
Humble grocers
Greedy pimps
And teenage whores
Second to none, for sure not to the ones
That dared to leave you in a corner
Forcing you to paint fruits and flowers
They pointed out you as a visionary
For your ideas and goals
Never seen
And never thought
Before you
(You) wanted to wipe (out) that old and arbitrary
Habit to portrait (a) sweetened reality