As I gaze at “the unmade bed”
Uncharitable thoughts stream through my head
‘This person’s a slut,’ I cruelly judge
Whilst others will croon and poetically fudge
‘It’s so post-modern’; they all will croon
Has Modern Art fallen much to soon?
When daily life is deemed to be ‘art’
How will we tell the two apart?
‘A Sink of Dishes’; unwashed and dirty
‘The Giggling Girl’; so coy and flirty
But looking back into the past;
A plate of fruit, a blue boy’s sash
A sweeping landscape full of drama
A dragon fighting a knight in armour
The world has always reflected such
But now we decry and damn as much
Art is in the eye of the beholder
And now our tastes are getting bolder
So if you dislike ‘the unmade bed’
Go look at something else instead!