The Artist’s Other Face

The Artist’s Other Face

 

A heart adrift on some dark city street
Is like a truth that grieves in stark defeat

He’s but a raincoat and a hat’s damp brim,
Though surely someone prescient painted him

He seems to hold our glance �"
He seems to stare, as demons do,
When we are unaware

Yet he is merely filling up the space
In which the artist shows his hidden face.