Matthew Wong 1984-2019
Tourettes, depression
He spoke of the presence
The devil dusk to dawn
His left us a confession
His art distilled an essence
Of why we can’t go on
A theme oft returning
One figure barely there
A landscape vivid vast
Melancholy yearning
Palette as prayer
Loneliness will last
Throughout November I am writing a poem every day as part of an effort to raise funds for The Center For New Americans. If you like the poems (or even if you don’t) and would like to support this fantastic organization, please follow this link. Thanks.