Blob was the art

They couldn't see your life in black and white.
Or the variety of substance in a wheel colour trance.
They say art is boring, it doesn't move me.
Cos art is still that doesn't impress me.
They walked from it, abandoned the creative depths of fantasy art.
They chose moving pictures over painted walls that doesn't move the soul to appreciate the fondness of romanticism.
Listen to the calling footsteps pounding your stones to the playful pavements.
There lies the chalk artist and his creations of thought inspire those around his circle.
Blob was the art that planted skeptic assumptions of the artistic world.
Where most elderly pay attention to magnificent masterpieces of the great painters in the 16 to the 17th century.
Blob was the art they came to known.
Like blackness laid over their eyes to sleep.
Nothing but floating bubbles giving them headaches, walking around the Tate Modern.
They had no interest in 3D art or is it's exhibition to date, footsteps around felt like.
"this place is shit" "I'm tired, I wanna go home" "I'm bored" "can we go and see The Expendables?"
Art never has to be the individual intent to the viewer's eye.
Never does, it have the boring intent of a fat lady, in the Cupid's sleeping love dream.
Take a trip down Blackfriars, we will sip the blood rivers in Victoria Park.
As long as Finsbury Park romanticises tree barks and kisses the cars on busy roads.
Blob was the art they gave me.
So the next individual copied the same replica and put off artistic visions out of lovers of art.
There is no art lover in this gallery, or a pencil sharpener.
Art is what you make it.
Thank God I'm one of the few who appreciates art.