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Robert Watson
Poems
Nov 2021
The Unfinished Portrait
A gallery full of flawless art.
The colorful walls are lined with portraits.
My canvas face observes patiently.
The drones buzz around the room.
Stinging, they leave no honey.
Jagged lines, a black and white visage.
Swarms amass on the colored sheets,
Desperate for a hit of gratifying nectar.
My crude gaze has none to offer.
The incessant humming is deafening.
As I hang there, suspended, in neglect.
The sun sets; wasps return to their hives.
The artist who drafted me chose stark lines,
And hung me unfinished in that dark corner,
Reminding us of apathy for works in progress.
#art
#neglect
#process
#portrait
#apathy
Written by
Robert Watson
24/M/Minnesota
(24/M/Minnesota)
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