The color of love is at best grey.
The more I try to paint it black or white, the greyer it gets.
When I started it was white, so pure and innocent
I painted for hours and hours
With colors from sky blue to blood red
From spring green to Tangerine Yellow
The canvas wider than the oceans, the lands and the skies
For my hands won’t stop
Neither would my heart
Then one day, that moment came that would stop it all
My heart would stop and so would my hands
For I thought the colors were a sham
All I was left with was black
The charcoal, ash and arsenic
I set out spreading them on the canvas
On the colors from sky blue to blood red
From spring green to tangerine yellow
Now I stand awash at the end of the 3 worlds
All I wish is to start with white again
But I realize that
The color of love is at best grey.
The more I try to paint it black or white, the greyer it gets.
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