“I put my heart and soul into my work,
and have lost my mind in the process.”

                                         Taunted and tormented
                                         Voices in his mind
                                         Dreams filled with anguish
                                         Love he couldn’t find

“Art is to console those who are broken by life.”

                          His heart, his soul
                          crushed by deep despair
                          struggling to breathe
                          weight he couldn’t bear

“One can speak poetry by arranging colors well.”

                                           Swirls of cobalt
                                           splash of emerald green
                                           flashes of deep carmine
                                           saffron flares between

“The night is more alive, more richly colored than the day.”

                        Nights beneath his brush
                        became life’s multicolored page
                                        his words and wisdom were
                        far beyond his age.

“The more I think it over the more I feel there is
nothing more truly artistic than to love people.”  

                                       Love was not a certainty
                                       but stars could make him dream
                                       greatness escaped his grasp
                                       his work remained unseen.

“A great fire burns within me, but no one stops
to warm themselves at it.  Passersby see only a wisp of smoke.”

                                         Had he not ended his life,
                                         would his praises have been sung?
                                         If you die so early
                                        are you forever young?