Artist’s Plea

Heed the clamors

Oh, heartless fools.

Hear the silent prayer

Oh biased public.

We’re here with a purpose, a reason.

We’re living here just like you—with a mission.

We’re here as artists first and foremost

Lovers of beauty, aesthetic and the sublime

Adorers of creation, nature and the divine.

We may be weird. Eccentric. Even at times lonely

Yet we fill your world with all things a-lovely

Struggling, starving artists we may be

But we’re lavished in soul with exquisite beauty.

Without artists life is bleak

Dull, colorless, boring

Art can’t feed the body, yes—

But it feeds your soul

For years, we master our craft

To near perfection

In return received

Jeers of rejection.

Frowns, raised eyebrows

And thumbs down we may forgive

But indescribable joy of

Finishing artworks can’t forget

Not our fault

We’re gifted at birth

The exceptional talent

Few can only possess

Success for us may be elusive, far-reaching

We accept its inevitability

Fame may follow—but short-lived

Perhaps soon be buried in oblivion.

But the real essence in a painter’s life

Amidst the wrinkles, graying hair of hard work.

Lies in his dream—not of riches nor fame

But to leave a priceless legacy

A masterpiece worth millions of awed humanity.

Febrina J. Tanghal © Copyright 2011 All Rights Reserved

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