The eyes portray
Deep wells of sorrow
Within this moment
No thoughts tomorrow
The painting shows
The broken will
Loneliness again
To begin.
Each line a battle
Of an endless war
Each shred of torture
To explore
The world must see
Must understand
The artist who
Before them stands.
The rainbow is sweet
With coloured wings
Upon a sunlit sky
A lark it sings
The hazy fields
Its golden corn
The rich earth
Each year reborn.
If art could touch
As it touches me
In vibrant echo
The need to see
To feel the world
To grip my soul
Fate it deems
I will not grow old.
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Author:
nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson) (
Offline) - Published: March 3rd, 2026 02:31
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 1

Offline)
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