I never claimed to be an artist. That’s why I always turn down your offers of color. <br />I can’t create the brilliance in the world that I so appreciate. <br />My mind’s eye sees in black and white. <br />The only colors I can muster are the grays distilled from my soul. <br />If you could stand audience at my autopsy, you would see more than an abused liver and polluted lungs. <br />The room would be overtaken with the stench of rotting monotony. <br />No wonder you’ve always said my kisses taste so bland. <br />Who could help it with eyes like forgotten puddles and hair the color of sand. <br />I’ve always known how my legs jiggle as I walk, and of the constant slouch in my shoulders. <br />My only fault was believing you every time you told me I was something special. <br />After all, what could attract a flame to an ember?<br /><br />Rebecca Paul<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/paint-me-in-gray/
