A taste of fame
microscopic
a little glow from my tiny flame
And sure enough
lost and troubled souls began to circle
hungry for warmth
They think they know you
from the lies you sold
the way you mixed the paint
those clumsily broad brush strokes…
A flash of talent
minuscule
in its dimmish burst
Surely then, they shuffle closer
neglected, in need of light
hoping for a glimmer
of your humanness
or the residual heat
from a fire you once described
Convinced they know you
without asking any questions
assuming everything
from a scene you span
so many years ago
O, vanity, vanity
you’ll be the death of me…
[2020]
Thanks for reading.
The Lighthouse 
This caused me to philosophically ponder that as in art, the background to our lives is of greatest import!
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Thanks Peter, getting you pondering is an achievement I will relish today. Thanks for reading and commenting.
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Excellent piece.
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Thanks for reading and commenting – I missed your comment somehow. Apologies.
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My pleasure. No problem.
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Those pesky adoring fans are needed after all for art is to be shared and you can’t blame them for it. 😉
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Oh absolutely. I think anyone who is lucky enough to have people take an interest in their work finds it very humbling. I know I do. This one is more about the the darker side of fandom; a self-destructive souls that come around thinking you owe them something while wanting to be part of the story. And they burn your fingers. Thanks for reading, I am always grateful.
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