The Artist

The great man was known by almost everyone; Recognized in town as the one who made fun Of the tragic character he had become. For he, to passion, would always succumb. This is his story of those passions well spent, But romance and love were his first intent. He thought of true love as a lifetime goal; Perhaps it was a way for him to be whole. And, although he tried again and again, It seemed his efforts were always in vain. He was as kind and gentle as a person can be And with so many heartbreaks, he seemed rather carefree. But, this is his secret, folks flocked to the town, In search of his artwork, it being renowned. He was a rare artist; a true genius of art. Yet, he saw it as purging pain from his heart. For what went into his work was straight from his soul, That kept him together and, in fact, made him whole. He appeared a free spirit because he was free From strife and turmoil through his passions you see. He traded his anguish for his artwork so fine. That was his commerce; it was all by design. His customers paid gold and made him quite wealthy, While he was free from his heartaches and very healthy.