Graffiti: art, or vandalism? It sometimes seems every flat surface is someone’s canvas. Trains with spray-painted carriages trundle past graffiti-adorned buildings and rattle through illustrated tunnels.
Are you, like me, often inspired by the creativity and audacity of the artist? Or are you outraged by a perceived assault on public decency? Is graffiti a valid means of self-expression for those without a voice, or just the random scribbling of people with nothing better to do? For today’s poem, reflect on what graffiti means to you. Tell the story of a particularly memorable wall. Quote a powerful example of graffiti you’d seen (and feel free to share an image, if you’d like). Or write the poem as if it were itself splashed, for all to see, against the largest wall in town.
Or street signs
Colorful and bright
Created during the night
When yesterday they were not there
The imagination has run wild
One man’s art rising from his inner child