Based on the painting Poppies by Vincent Van Gogh

Van Gogh understood that

The cherry-red tongues of petals

Curling upon the crushed charcoal

Center of a poppy was divine.

The fountain of blooms cascades over

The white-porcelain vase, held fast to

The cerulean sheen of the wall.

They jostled closer to the artist's head,

Each flaming blossom bursting like a

Tiny cell in his brain, a miniscule firework

Of sanity slowly unraveling into smeared,

Smashed scarlet, lime green, and vibrant azure.

They pressed against the canvas, shuffling

Closer until the final day their creator's ashen frame

Stiffened and withered in bleak fields

Where he took his own life, blood

Splattering from his parted lips like the

Blurred blooms over which he had labored.