The evolution of the artist is oft riddled with confusion and associations with delusion,
You are odd, told off for not being what’s hot —as if these things can be taught or bought,
To take a stand is to demand reprimand from the misunderstanding marching band that is People’s Opinion,
And if you fail to hold onto and kiss their tails they threaten to maim, proclaim you lame and deny you fame
But fuck their game of Come and Go,
If life were their show it would be long gone and far from going on,
And that state of being is hardly worth absconding my pen or your brush’s call for,
I’m saying keep doing it despite the critics, politics and gimmicks of those who would wish to mimic or make a buck quick off this,
Your heart will hurt and in spurts you will burst into flames of blame, wishing you did not have this soul untamed or were born with a different name,
But your purpose is to surface what others may never see as worthy of focus, you have to show what realities the other sides are donned with,
You will be deep and you will climb bigoted, ignorant hills so steep that you’ll wish you could make a living off sleep,
But remember that for all that you give, someone somewhere cares enough to want more of what you share; if that’s just you now then search like a stallion for its mare!
What do you have to lose when you have given all you could?
Emote, devote and revolt for your art, or feel yourself die behind the eyes as your soul unravels to the burden of the stories you never told.
Stay your art’s in perpetuity,
(I hope I will as I preach this so spiritedly)
Evans Mbora Campbell