Beauty In Art

An artist not always understood,

painting by candlelight you knew,

there was inspiration to be had,

in that golden glow.

The world never understood you,

breaking your fragile heart and soul,

madness was a pattern,

a way to hide away,

when you were misunderstood.

It was a strange thing,

to be living yet have a tombstone with your name,

all these things were but a game,

it was your art that made you what you were

and art that saved you from fading away.

You may have lived in your own world,

but your paintings uncovered what was beneath,

you left the world as quickly as you came,

but left behind your lovely inner self,

in the paintings that were to be admired.

And yes, Vincent perhaps you were too beautiful for the world,

that you lived in,

but each starry, starry night,

I can raise my glass of wine

and express my admiration,

for the art that now adorns many a wall.