The Perfect Painting

The perfect painting, for Me, is always in my memory Coming home from school, looking for Mommy Down the creaking wooden staircase In the soggy basement, was She Painting a masterpiece Smiling up at me My Mother was an artist So, I too, went to art school The Professor then told me, "there's nothing we can teach you." So the best of times painting, I remember with my Brother I created A woman with long, flowing hair When my Brother fell ill Her face grew muddled Or painting together, with my first Love I painted a sensual nude and gave the painting away After his Funeral Painting can be Bittersweet Reliving all Life's memories Or dreaming of passions Long since past The perfect painting Will never last