Untitled

A painting I see has me to believe. A man portrayed in a civil place A dusty cloud surrounds and emulates his faith Torn trousers dressed around, keeping the screams from vocalizing a torturous sound Day dreaming leaving on a journey; Sure never to return wishes of eternity Fruitless searches travels of many grounds A Gas pump being the only salvation found Dirty soul forbidding control Rotting fruit has taking its toll Demon filled juice clinging, grasping For truth bowing to the submitted kick kept- Down never seeing the sky why try In this painting one mans story is showing A realistic sense of pity, which was not to find glory