My Starry Night

My Starry Night

My Starry Night










My palette turned to ice,

my world shattered on that

night of darkness, my

soul was tortured so.


What was once a happy

loving home, filled with sketches

of my life, cribs and

cradle rocking blue

eyes, with blond curly hair

babies, just wanting the love from

their daddy, safe in their snowy

linen land of fairy dust, and sucking

soothers held tightly,

in their tiny little hands.


Oh I cry for not trying to understand,

and thus I suffered in my quietude,

by questioning my sanity, time and

time again.

What was I doing? trying to set them

free from what?


I would not listen, and they surely

did not know that their daddy and

mommy was saying goodbye.

Oh starry night why did you

let me leave was it your delight to

see me take flight from a home

filled with love from babies for

their daddy Vincent


The colors in their rooms shades

of yellow pink and blues turned

mine to black and grey forevermore

and still I cry at night and see them,

cherub faces crying as I leave

without saying goodnight. And

walking away from their world.


Now this weathered tired face is

lined in pain the only

color left in me is black to ink

my past life that could have

been and should have been

a palette painted with colors

of the rainbow given me that

faded as I walked away

never to return leaving my life

my babies without their daddy

in their lives.


They grew and could not love

me yet my love stayed true for

them from a distance I did see

them grow into children

teens and adults.


I still had hope that they

would forgive me for leaving

them so long ago but

what was planted in their

young minds sustained them

with the hatred for their daddy

throughout all time.

I tried to take my life one night

when Jack was my co-pilot but

like a coward he pulled the steering

wheel back over the line it was

not my time.

I heard a whisper from a voice so still

saying Vincent do not kill yourself

there is something yet for you to fulfill

this world was meant for one

as passionate as you

and so I wept and pulled the car

over and poured Jack out the

door forevermore.

Starry, starry night I look at their

portraits in my albums still and

tears well up as emptiness fills my

soul and dark are my walls

that surround me in my living hell.


Ragged is my spirit but kindness is

my pill to instill upon the love of words

that my Muse keeps feeding me still

to ink and share with others who will

read between Vincent’s lines

of life and insanity that haunts him

like that silver thorn of bloody rose

I crushed and left so long ago.

My prayer is that they will someday

listen to their daddy a poet who

took the name of Vincent in memory

of a man who gave his ear so

they would listen as his color

painted hues and daffodils filled his

fields of sunflowers by his sad

and lonely road. or perhaps they

never will.


Yet in the distance I hear my

babies crying for their daddy

still, and one day if granted my

wish will be fulfilled before my

last breath is taken from me, they

will be by my side holding my

poet hand as I scribe my

last two words I’m sorry and my

Quill flutters gently to the floor.


© Copyright by Vincent Moore. All rights reserved


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