It’s true art, resolved at last.

It exudes such elegance, so

Many elements, yet holding

Steadfast. The composition of

It all makes me regret

The scolding I gave myself

Not but a day past. Although it

Does appear in the contrast a tad

Too heavy. And now that I get a real

Look at it, why did I cram all

Of this there? Where is the restraint?

This portion here is taxing the

Rest of the image like a levy.

The canvas was preferable

Before I even laid a finger near.

All that did was go and taint it.

Come here you! I have a mind

To snap you clean in two!

Oh lord, how much time was

Frittered and spent, only for it now

To slouch over the grime-ridden,

Filthy ground like a tent.

For the rest of days, I’ll stumble

The streets in a battered malaise, and…

Halt, doth my eyes deceive me, or

Is there something spectacular within sight?

I ought to get started on it lest

I lose grasp of the marvel meant for

Me alone to conjure up and complete.