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The Artist: A Poem on Sadness and Creative Expression
Updated: 2 days ago
Sadness can feel like an overwhelming force, consuming and unrelenting. But as an poet and creator, I see it as a canvas - a space to pour emotion, process pain, and create meaning. The Artist reflects my journey through those dark moments, painting feelings from the canvas of my mind.
We are all artists, painting our lives upon the canvas of reality. Mix the colors your own way and apply emotion liberally. Don't be afraid to let your brushstrokes show, and above all else, make sure your art has soul - Cristen Rodgers
The Artist
Sitting
Surmising
My mind being frightening
Like a belt tightening
Around my neck
This isn't exciting
There isn't any lighting
The sadness is coming
I feel like running
Yet the dark is cunning
My legs are heavy
Like bricks on my feet
I guess I'm going nowhere
So it is time to meet
The internal motors
That spark and clash
Rip and smash
Here is my interpretation
My deepest sensation
My lungs are heavy
There is no challenge
And no expectation
I sense I know why
I keep feeling this way
How I look to avoid
The hardest thing
I've ever had to do
To lose my feelings
Of love for you
I've longed for what we had
Dreamt of good and bad
My heart goes begging
I lusted for the emotion
Desired the commotion
The feelings that inspired
That dizziness
Isn't painless
It's the torture of my heart
Like an art
This love
It messed with my insides
Like a tray of paint
Mixed up and colourful
Reds greys and yellows
Blues and greens
The joyous wonder
The darkening screams
All those hopes
Laid to waste
Time to be emptied
Gone is the taste
The potential
The drama
All things karma
My spirits dampen
As my heart fades to black
The artist has left us
Our canvas unfinished
The picture is open
But thought has diminished
Printed forever
We will no longer be
Our pitch cut off
From reaching its ending
And whilst I think of this
My heart is so torn
It feels like my tapestry
Just stopped in its tracks
And the painting is there
The structure and foundation
But the sky is unfinished
And the house half built
Like a bankrupt fighter
It leaves much to be desired
Everything it hoped for
Deep in the mire
The mess is clear
The solution not so
The artist behind the painting
Where did he go
And so there we are
Left unfinished
The applicators broken
There is no more to write
Or paint
Or glow
Or reach its potential
Just no
And hard memories plentiful
The only hope now
Is for a brand new canvas
To manifest itself
Be born from life's atlas
The world is still here
Despite all my fears
I must top up my ink
Empty my tears
Refill my pots
Regain my strength
If I can do that
I can make more sense
This sadness has owned me
Thrown off my game
I have to release this
Or forever stay the same
© Leon Gregori 2025
How do you process sadness or loss? Do you turn to creativity, or do you find solace in other ways? I’d love to hear your reflections in the comments!
If you enjoyed The Artist, you might also like:
The Game: A Poem on Life’s Relentless Cycle - This piece tackles the cyclical nature of modern life - eat, work, sleep, repeat - and how this relentless rhythm has shaped our humanity.
About me
I have been writing poetry since I was in my mid-teens and find it completely natural to express myself through written word. I am from the UK but I am now a full time slow traveling digital nomad after meeting my amazing fiancé Jenn on Instagram, as part of my journey as an author.
My writing has always been unpredictable and without structure; it is freestyle from completely random moments when I feel compelled to write. My content is mainly long form and focuses on love, heartbreak and life.
Let's stay in touch
Come and connect with me over on IG! Along with poetry, I share stories, highlights, tips and tricks from four years of full-time travel. I also like to drop facts and interesting things to know about places too! Would be great to meet you over there.
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