One thing that gave me pause,

when searching through the dusty tomes of archaeology,

was the number of places in the world

littered with the remnants of ancient graffiti.

Small letters, symbols, crude drawings – using all definition of the word “crude”…

Voices from insignificant humans whose names will never be known,

that survive their originator’s all too brief existence.

What would they have thought, if they knew that their scrawl

would survive the test of time and here

centuries later, cause a chuckle at a lewd joke made or

raise an eyebrow at an injustice called out.

Would Decimus, presumably the 10th son of someone, have thought better

of depicting the local authority with asses ears, or

would he have embellished even more?

Is graffiti the true “universal” language of letters and pictographs

that transcend the age they are invented in, and speak

to generations far into the future?

A part of me hopes so… if only that those who have such tiny voices now

can be heard…



One thought on “Graffiti

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