Writing and art are my ways of sharing my views with the world
I admit I often write about social issues and our need to change
My dearest, darling one thinks I should write less and do more
I have considered this; perhaps some time my life I’ll rearrange
Yet what I paint and pixel rises up, is created from my very core
I exult that now, at last I’ve found my meaning, my raison d’être
My art, as well, where message is conveyed through metaphor
Where meaning comes from chosen color, line, texture, etcetera
Metaphor, no doubt will make everyone who sees it think writing
It wouldn’t make much sense if I wrote just red, yellow and green
Without some other references or clues, it could not be exciting
Yet my writing, my art may make no difference in the final scene
Still, this feels to me as if this is what I was meant to say and do
Somewhat like giving a person a fish and not teaching them how
I’m sure it would be helpful if I served up bowls of soup or stew
Still better to eliminate the need and I think we should start now
My writing, my art, I know, will not, cannot change the world alone
Nor will I convince the violent or greedy to change, mend their ways
For good or ill, I’m a nagging mother who says call her on the phone
Hoping the multitude will join me, c’mon, let’s do what mother says