An Art Is Dead

Colors and ideas just rush in
As has been observed and seen
It is one of the tricky jobs
Inspiration is nature from where he has to rob

If not then any object
People can't reject
As his brush and color
May soon find great honor

Painter can brush the lines
They may appear as happy lines
Someone may read it as an art
Others may find it sales object in mart

His heart bleeds in brush
It finds great rush
Through his eyes and on canvass
The shape appears at last

Who may sing in praise?
Who may love it and chase?
No one except bidders
Or genuine art readers

That is his worth
Real asset and wealth
He has contentment
With lots of praise and comments

It may adore anybody's wall
Receive attention and call
Painter may be lost
As it has been sold at cost

It is an art piece
With lovely message of peace
That is worth to understand and read
Before anyone says 'an art is dead'

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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