Vincent Van Gogh, a prodigy depressed,
Celebrated post-impressionist Dutch.
Bold color and form, he was rather blessed,
Wielding his palette with a genius touch.

Simple functioning, a battle uphill,
Plagued by psychotic delusions to fear.
Lifelong stigma to be mentally ill,
In a moment of rage, sliced off his ear.

Tortured soul and distressed alcoholic,
A psyche where sanity did collide.
Painting his emotions melancholic,
Thirty-seven, committed suicide.

Misunderstood master quintessential,
Vexed by reality existential.

“I’m one of the more pessimistic cats on the planet. I make Van Gogh look like a rodeo clown.” ~ Dennis Miller