Post Modern Artist Poem by Shirow Walker

I was sad,
I know I was.
That horrible sinking feeling.
That wonderful sensation.
It was bliss.
Oh how dreadful I felt,
How empty and hollow.
Everything seemed so dark,
So.........Hopeless.
It was delicious!
But now.
Now....at the pinnacle of my internal strife,
And heart wrenching agony.
When I sit down and put my fingers to the keys.
When I am on the very verge of POURING out my torment and anguish!
I am happy?
That feeling of hope restored in crux of my heart?
A smile hanging on the tip of my lips?
No, not the edge!
It has permeated its self to the deepest regions of my soul!
How HORRENDOUS!
How HORRIFIC! (thats for you catherine)
How Mellow dramatic.
Alas, I shall never be a tortured artist.
What a loss.