Violet, yellow, green and red

she walks right in, full of life,
with colors dripping off her feet.
hues so bright, as the sun in her eyes
she paints the world as she dearly likes.

her sorrow, her secrets and
the whims of her joy
were all treasured whites,
like the bleak empty nights
whence the moon seems so guiltlessly bright.

oh, the volatile violet
with the mellowed yellow.
and the green that screams
with the dash angry red.
how I wish her colors were
all dull and dead instead!

but no, she colors it yet
with all that she got,
along with a smirk so colorless
that drives the canvasses wild.

what do we do when the colors fade?
how do we adorn the coming nights on our way?
blinded by the hues that lit our days,
we have only four to use, to paint our memory’s distant daze.

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