Art... A world apart
Who are we and how would we know? Without a hand written description anybody's guess is as good as the next. Even when supplied with vast amounts of creations on every medium known to man are we are still left wondering. Is it possible for man kind to pull off amazing feats by pulling pyramid rocks thru the streets, or can we construct stone henge's with only muscle and bone?
What has been forgotten or lost may never be known, language barriers only mask what is shown. Left to search our souls staring up at faceless totem poles, dark caverns and endless holes. To the ends of the earth we search dripping drops into minds bucket.
When did these events take place and is our story-line right? Technology evolving at exponential pace offering new opinion's to an endless race, the finish line is only defined by time, chopping out toc's, tics know how we clothed. Covering our flesh from the elements and separating body from nature.
Where are the answers I can't find the keys, genetics pointing towards prostate problems from ancestors entombed in a cold dark room. Are our problems passed down brushed stroke with brown. Wind blown pigments cover hands protected by caves and whistling sands, body dwelling wandering man.
Why do we search our past present and future? Knowledge keeping us from the edge, history sleeping off in our beds. Repeating alarms daily, snooze button learns lazy. Fighting the endless battle for rest, heart chest protected with a vest. Materials all fighting to form the same style nest, striving always to be the best.
How is now holy cow, how much longer can we fuel and fund these wars, policing the world and landing on every shore. Altering food as drugs, a punch in the stomach nauseating bugs. Swept under the rug without a shrug, mother will find out and ears will tug.