Everyone wears my color,
As though to taunt me,
Almost to say "the world is bright
But youre disconnected".
It might just be some passing fad,
But the truth is I liked it first.
They must have discovered my secret
And packaged it for display
So that everyone could own thier tiny bit of freedom
Until their washing maching fades it to grey.
They all walk by resembling my joy
Or at least wearing the same color.
I like things a bit distorted.
Even on my glory days I seldom wear my color outright.
I prefer to sing it, speak it or write it.
Read it in a way which would confuse it for purple
If one were not fluent in my secret language. |
|
