The Reniscence Man Poem by Timothy Long

Most of him did part, his destroyed art, how can one deny, the greatness did imply, how could such a talent exist, little flaws not found such accusations are bound, with trouble being found, how could you compare, in all bouts its unfair, only the foolish do dare, none match to make a pair, a paintingod, matched to a scientific genius, when did such curiosity be allowed to exist long lived, such more ideas to bring forth, where's the time? he drew beyond reality, painted beyond realms, invented layouts from centuries far past to the future, its a shame such a man lives once, is it enough? generations to the present have with no equal, dwindling ignorance and false naïveness is the norm now, merely sheep, led like cows, a bleak existence humans have been evolving less since the time, when losing a man in his prime, it is a intellectual crime, what went wrong, is he dumb? or stranger than we are? its a useless debate, but one of our mistakes, on cannot pretend to sleep, how can they? his frustration to see, untalented most are, deeply, just floating by in life, thinking days are long, but infinite, what's one to do, to be like him, truly do tell, all are jealous under the reniscence spell, nothing natural or drive can survive, time says, yet the works do could that be a flaw as well? how swell, only time over humanity will tell, all comparable art fell, such nuisance is rare, is it fair? or just humans lazing more by the day, its sad he doesn't breathe anymore, I'd give his brain for, a stem has bloomed of his sexuality, of being alone in life, doesn't matter which, humans live shortly, bet ideas soar forever, that's his case, past beating any distant future. No more, no less, his case of being the best is put to rest.