There was once a painter in the city of Naples,
Drawing women’s portraits was his staple.
He saw their beauty in their laughter and smile,
And sought to draw what their beauty defined.
Women were crazy about the magic he could do,
To make them look beautiful like no one else could.
But the painter was never satisfied,
No matter how much praise or money he got.
He kept looking to find the beauty he once drew,
But failed each time and became disenchanted too.
He loved his art and he loved women too,
But no one could turn him on like the beauty he once drew.
Eventually he left his art to die too,
When he found he could never draw what his heart wanted to.
Poetry
June 9, 2015
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