Work Of Art

His creativity paints his world

His love is like a form of art

His embrace was my shelter

Before we were far apart.

My world was painted by him

With careful and deliberate strokes

They always said I had his eyes

I was blessed with my father's looks.

For sixteen years he molded me

I was a statue of his design

Yet now my artist is gone

I have only memories of our time.

My painting is unfinished

My life still incomplete

Yet here I stand alone to work

This will be my greatest feat.