The picture I drew of Rosetta by Jenny Saville, captivated me so very much while in college. I never knew why until now, my G-D is such a powerful one. I was so injured and knew I had to keep going to school. The way of which this picture looks is the reason I couldn't die. Oh how I was in so much torture, not as to no why. I do know of the pain in my left eye. MY SPIRIT as kept me it was the reason I got by. I still never will know why you as tinker with the ones in the know. Just like Rosetta, I felt so blind and yet there was a most humble eloquence about her picture. When asked to draw her as assignment in art, I simple couldn't let the chance go by. You see my father what has been done to one of your daughters. Made my "spirit ponder, should he stay or run. This was of hard challenge, for he knew I was hanging on. If you but look and feel her torture, then you would as know what empathy is. I think the smear around her left eye was the spirit I heard as he swept by. Oh my dear G-D give us all as the real knowledge to know of you. I'm trying father, as to bring this world to term. Your girl children and women are suffering very much from that which is redundant. To this day pays of no rent, who in heaven's thought of this. It does of no justice, has of no firm leverage. It leaves a empty blank space especially in the mom's of children who were to be great. You see it robs your soul and it takes away your firmament. Babies grow old before their own time. Father come quick, make it swift, for our men have all but gone by the way side. Like a pack of wolves, yet let them be lion as to say. Let me walk my walk and you walk your way. I am so tired of this play. I want to belong yet, not as in all this disrespectful way. Hey, man this is, my mother, my sister I am not a man to disrespect in such a way. Someone has lead astray in a misleading way. Let this world sit down to draw up another theme. This is obsolete, when it's being done on the streets. A world without mystery in some area's should always have that twain . Yet father they are to be men, your son's my brothers. Somehow beauty is still in the eye of the beholder. I feel her grief yet her poise and strength hold up as eloquence. Look at her it was how I felt of her without her consent. Let Us Have Empathy For Pain Of Others, So As We Can Live Again.
