Melancholy Man  

Your eyes tell the story of your blues

Like a portal to your inner thoughts

One can clearly see you are badly wrought 

 

You handle your palette as if to paint an ominous sky

Faded into the background not wanting to be seen

Your strokes of anger turned into a masterpiece

The hues of blues and whites

Gives light to your irrational ways

As your oily pastels form an icy cold haze

 

Eyes of your Starry Night and a beard of your Red Vineyard  

 Melancholy man  

Your seasons change so fast

Summer, winter, and fall they never last

 

As you departed from one life to another

Each stroke you made was left behind

 On walls that no one could ever find

No one knew you until you passed

But now that you are no more

Your memory will forever last