To my favorite artists

So why did they not tell us
that we are not embracing the abstract?
trapped in the existential asphyxiation
we never saw our chains

Oh the strings we used to tie ourselves with
why were they so invisible back then?
You painted your wrath on canvas
with black tar and plastic
tears and blood
bones and your sweaty fingers

we bought your paintings
hung them on our walls
We embraced what we understood
when you meant to tell us something else
Oh we blind, unfortunate, rubbish humans
Witlessly searching always at the wrong spots

we never learned your satire
never were we capable to absorb your irony

Striking again and again on the same demented doors
you could have opened them from outside
gallons of our blood and tears were wasted
consumed and splattered all over the cage

The melodrama of emotions we faced
burnt our brains and nerves

or were you right back then
and were we just supposed to be wrong?
were we a part of an equation
which demanded our blood?

Aging helps none
for it takes what it gives
it eats life as the price of the truth
have we paid enough
or you need more of our tissues

it is a fair game
though quite ruthless to begin with?

If only prestige was easy
If only we were immortals.