Though I'll Never Be Michelangelo
This night, unhappiness eats my torn soul,as I bemoan past occasions now lost,
and long for childhood's dawn when I was whole,
before darkness entered my life with cost.
How I yearn for the gift of graphic art
and painting: O soul! what I now would give
to illustrate and draw (by hand and heart)
a place where rainbows, stars, and birds could live.
Though art perished in me so long ago,
I still have the rare gift of rhyme and poesy.
Though I'll never be Michelangelo,
in Parnassus I will be just as cozy.
Despising rhyme, art at first was higher;
but the Muses, faithful this night, inspire.
Sonnet by Ngoc Nguyen
Written on 2026-04-18 at 09:54
Tags Michelangelo Muse Parnassus
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