The Artist:

Art cannot be rushed, patience is a must,
Craft is the same, it's the nature of the game.
First, the artist must adjust, to living life with little fuss.
As he hones his skill, through the power of his will,
Seeing finally through the boundaries,
of his mind now are nil.
With a song in his soul, he knows he's in control,
And words he sings so sweet, this man you won't defeat.
He doesn't live like the rest,
and when he dies he doesn't see it being death.
Therefore you will never know,
when he leaves, the secrets go.
But while he stays most judge his ways,
Never trying to understand,
The Artist is just a man...
              /|\
Copyright © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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Capitano Avatar
October 23, 2016 at 7:20 AM
True art is self-expression and poetry is a self-portrait. Very cool.
Wolf Avatar
October 23, 2016 at 8:30 PM
Very true Phil, thanks for the nice comment /|\
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