Vincent van Gogh: Visitor Submissions

When the sunflowers were burned
So it the one that so loved them
And the winds blowing still,
Inside of me lies,
And the blossom of his flowers
Made the blue of my eyes

They thought they understood
They thought they were so right
But as did such things
They were only lowering his invisible flight.
And when the obvious crush
Had finally transpire
They over through on him all of their fear

So now I'm asking,
No specific one
Was it his fault that he had such a mystery inside of his eyes?
So all I left to do
Is to wish that forever
I'll have his eyes of blue.