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
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