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Colours everywhere.
A kaleidoscope.
A rainbow.

A shower of fireworks.

Life like a flower in bloom,
Red for love, blue for gloom,
Yellow laughter and purple plumes,

But black most certainly spells doom.

Sometimes they swirl,
Colours most often do.
Ribbons of hues

Slipping in and out of view.

My eyes see them true,
Some bright, some pale,
Some bitter, some stale

A story they’re telling you.

Rosy ribbons of love won
Bitter blacks of hate and failure
Murky brown self doubt

Leafy envy growing like vines.

I love them all.
I love them equally.
I love them all.

All but one.

Gray.
Thats my world.
Ashy, dusty, grimy gray

Like vision on a hazy day.

I could get glasses
With lenses of any hue
And look at life any way I chose

No one would oppose.

But it would serve no purpose,
No point really.
Gray would always be gray

Whatever anyone else were to say.

For now I accept gray,
Of being in between.
It could be a purple

Or a pale pink even.

Perhaps some day
We’d say good bye to gray.
But life would be black and white,

Then there would be no escape.

Gray is mine.
It should be yours too.
Who wants a tepid, colourless world ?

Let the colours rule.

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