Art Is It A Finger On The Pulse -^- Poem by Mark Heathcote

Art is it a finger on the pulse -^-
Is it a still-life? Abstract creation
Holding the vitals of a nation
That's about to somehow, convulse.

Does it capture your heart's internal workings?
Paint your nightmares in their alternate diverges.

Art what does it do for your soul
Does it awaken your deepest senses?
Does it unpick the lock the goal?
Where imprisoned for offences.

Sitting alone, a mask of your own, duplicity
You thereby question your own, insensitivity.

Art is it for art's sake—outgrown
You ask yourself can it stand alone.
What, if any, is its lasting, undertone?
Does something, of us all still, remain unbeknown?