Loneliness haunts the aching soul
Of an artist yearning for rapport.
Everyday trying to fill the hole,
Of a love that time tore.
Meticulously focused on the task
He spends every moment on, no matter the cost.
He hides his emotions with a mask
While recreating the one he lost.
Every stroke of the bristled brush
Creates a soft, colorful song.
Measuring every line, he doesn’t rush
But he always discovers something wrong
From the shape of her lips to the color of her eyes.
Until one day, he finally captures her essence.
Almost alive, on his canvas she lies.
Her bright colors seem to heighten every sense.
Off the page, she dances
Real and breathing without any flaw
Stands the one he never gave any chances
The one he never truly saw.
Youthful and perfect, she comes to life
How wonderful when at last arises the moment
Where he holds her close and removes from his heart, the knife
That she left on the day she was absent
But suddenly, the paint begins to fade,
Her paper skin crumples and tears.
With no opportunity to bring her aid,
He loses her forever, despite his prayers.

From the artist starving for affection,
That bargained his love for his work, we learn
That what drives relationships apart, will never mend the connection
No matter how greatly we yearn.