An Artist In Exile Poem by DM W

I feel like a remnant of something that has passed,
In this crazed modern age that races by so fast.
I feel like I'm watching a play within the world:
Where the seasoned actors are constantly misheard.
These days I seem to find solace in solitude.
Shrieking, amorphous crowds are so sullen and crude.
And modern relationships are so fleeting and vain.
It seems preferable to go against the grain.
So I'll labour by the warmth of inspired light,
And slowly... patiently try to sculpt, paint & write.
Perhaps one day, I might even get lucky and
Create a gleaming masterpiece or something grand!