Lucian Freud, oh Lucian Freud, what sort of life must you have led to make you look and feel so?
Your eyes speak of sadness,
your countenance is of pain.
Did the troubles throughout your life
never learn to wane?
Your brush strokes speak of anguish,
your colours speak of regret.
Had your dreams and hopes in life
never been quite met?
Lucian Freud, oh Lucian Freud,
you’ve made a painting that’s made me cry.
Here I am left standing, looking, feeling,
softly wondering why.
so I risk the judgement this might get me. so be it I suppose.
His last self portrait, if anyone wonders.
post-edit: life has strange ways of working out. His last self-portrait was titled ‘Reflection’. http://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/jonathanjonesblog/2012/apr/23/lucian-freud-deserves-gallery-national-portrait#zoomed-picture