An artistic imbalance

When ladies played ball

And gentleman heard the call

Of the canvas and paint,

With no hint of taint

Dreaming of the sublime

Dancing on the fumes of wine

Reeling in the innocent bride

Writing history from their side

For everyone to see and hear

So that the women disappear

And the other side of the past

Is pushed back to position last.

The impression still remains

But forth come the cleansing rains

To wash away the forced imbalance

And break us from this tiresome trance.

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