Mr. Van Gogh

Mr. Van Gogh, did you smile

while you painted seas of shadowy blue?

Were you laughing all the while

while the strokes were stroking fro and to?

 

Mr. Van Gogh, my dear good fellow,

did, perhaps, you sigh at the sight

of that crescent moon that you painted yellow

shining ever so bright on that Starry Night?

 

Mr. Van Gogh, oh Mr. Van Gogh,

please tell me the truth about the land

that you once named, “Wheat Field With Crows”,

and why, in this place you died by your hand.

 

But alas, my dear friend, there was once a time in your life,

When the olive Trees were covered in a smug, black haze.

When the Rhone showed no hope of the stars from your night,

And you, my dear Vincent, ended your days.

Reviews

[Tammy]

So sad... Good write.