Poem: We Are Dying of Exposure

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The future is colourful
Yet we’d rather have it gray
Hope that someone else can fix
These problems of today
Did not think of a future
Did not learn from the past
Did not think this would be ignored
Do not think it will last
Varnish all your murals
So we can tear then down
Yet put up new monuments
Dressing up a town
We could call it beautiful
We could call it art
But in the end it will fade away
And is doomed to fall apart
A canoe I had once painted
Will one day turn to rust
A wall I decorated
Will erode and turn to dust
Enjoy the beauty of it
Catch it while you can
Every hopeful project
Not part of greater plan
So keep a painting on your own wall
To ensure it always stays
Because any art outside of it
Will only fade away

©2015 James Takeo

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