Here I am
My pitiful self
Gaunt face
Empty belly
Head shrouded in gauze
What have I become?
I contradict myself--
So much beauty inside
And yet, so much pain
And I look so calm
To be so mad...
So this is how it feels
To walk the tightrope of sanity
And topple to the earth
And try to grasp that rope again
To pull myself back up
But everytime I try
I fall further than before
Yet, no matter how far I fall
I scrape the beauty from my mind
And preserve it for the world
I have been reading poetry for over three decades: and this is one of the most beautiful, and most profound, poems I have read in that time. This poem is entirely classic, and deserves to be in the finest of anthologies.
Bravo! All of your poems that I have read are impressive; but this one strikes me as the ultimate centerpiece, because it describes not only what Van Gogh did, but what all poets do (the sane, and the not so sane). Again I say . . . Bravo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Starward