Art

You believe
Art is always
On the other side of the fence
A dish always
On the other menu;
Never in the diner you frequent.
What you make
Is a rip-off
A consolation prize
Something to make-do with
Watered down cola
Flat soda
Soggy pizza.
They won't tell you
They don't like it.
Not in so many words.
In fact, they'll look at it
Like it's the cutest puppy
But you see it in their faces
Fake smiles
Plastered, and fake compliments
Uttered.
Like you tell a child
His scribbles are masterpieces.
Kind, sweet words
Except you're not a child
Anymore.