Too bad for them.
The artist dies before the artistry ever lives.
It’s a Masterpiece.
A Masterpiece time has revealed.
The people see it.
They marvel, it’s magnificent.
It’s surreal.
Too bad for them.
Who never sees the artist who lived.
To see the artistry that the great artist’s imagination creates.
To see manipulation of emotions manipulated in a trance-like state.
To see this craft in its truest form —
Epic.
Epic.
Epic.
The critic shall criticize.
Likewise, those of the prestigious name.
What they shall use for their artistry-present assessment
is that of a past-time gauge, that can never define,
A Masterpiece.
Mastered before its time.
Yet the prestigious shall come to know it.
When the artistry that was too deep to be seen with the shallow eye… epoch arise.
What was clearly there before and the same is now seen through new eyes.
The people have no other word to say of it. Even the critics themselves had to admit it. The artistry is none less than...
Exquisite.
Too bad for them
Who shall never see the complete artist who lived, but what is just left behind.
Masterpieces.
Masterpieces.
Mastered before its time.
Written and read by Dee. Williams
Image by ivanovgood
© 2025 UnControlled Pen LLC
