Pain, but not too much, raced through his being.
Like drops of blood in his memory, he
Could look with strength beyond any seeing.
The dimensions of the work screamed to be.
The exquisite anguish of creating
Prompted him to continue his labor.
It was not at all about relating.
He never considered any neighbor.
Breath and perspiration permitted him
To shape the piece to his private liking.
It stood far and above the rest of them.
The appearance remained clear and striking.
His own selfish drive within him just boiled.
It was worth every minute that he toiled.