Art is not
just an expression of beauty:
soft, green pastels
watercolour meadows on misty hills
leading me to lie down by peaceful waters
and rest.
It is an expression of truth
in its brutal reality,
cruel brutality.
The darkness that surrounds
the anguished cry of a mother separated
from her child;
the screams of a young man on a waterboard;
the groans of our mother
earth ravished, exploited.
My pen and my brush
longing for justice
when there is none.
sometimes only poetry will do it