WE, IS A BEAUTIFUL CONCEPT
At the verge of insanity I stand
My head I have detached, displayed
And viewed from all possible angles
Yet still pose confused in the gallery of love
The art in we, still fresh with a fragrance of hands
Sculptures, with feeling
I have awarded your mastery
And hung portraits on the walls of memory
An exhibition the colour of peacocks
Fine strokes of passion
A splash of nerve
A mahogany frame of trust
And not words in the prime of talent
Could paint the spectrum of we
And we, artists, sketch life unclothed
Stars are audience
Unperfected needles, we scribe
But, maybe for sanity’s sake
It’s time for this model to change his pose
We, is a beautiful concept
But, we can never work out
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