Idealism/Pragmatism

Magic and power, permanence in the annals of time, be found in the words of the dreamers, the thinkers and the rabble rousers

That's what they all say, heard it all before, poetic snobbery at its finest; grandiose art is still art, of no real importance

There is a line, and you, sir, are walking that fine line to misery and disaster, between the pit and the pendulum, writhing

Wealth and status are the sources of power in this life, your foolish, pomposity may grant you notoriety, but as merely a fool

A fool with a greater sense of self than those rotting in the grandiose chambers of power, who wield it with slight of hand, not deftness

Naivety is not worthy of celebrating - you sir, are cheating yourself and any that follow you, to a doom that awaits at the end of the road

A doom handed out, no doubt, by those who value commodity over introspection and inquisition.

Where does your questions, your pointed assessments and wildly misjudged and childlike insistence in rocking the boat get you?

Salvation and solace, the understanding of maintaining a trueness, of self, to self and beyond

What if?

The dream is never fully realised, or potential is never reached? Would that really be failure?

And you find yourself dying in some wretched hovel, but it's all okay because at least you have your integrity and your precious "art"

Time moves at the same speed for everyone, remember that when you're striving for wealth, and ignoring... everything else. Who is happier at death - the fool who lived to the full or the genius who lived to keep his coffers full?

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Thanks for reading!

Author's Notes: Self-explanatory...I hope. Was a thought I had...and came together rather quickly for the Dialogue Poetry Challenge.

Here be some other pieces of thy written art: