Orange is the color all poets avoid
Orange really gets song writers annoyed.
Orange gets left out of every end rhyme
Orange never seems to get there in time.
Poor Orange, love child of yellow and red;
Awake in the night, lying in bed
Wondering and worrying why no poem was written
Describing him as a color by which one was smitten.
Unfortunate orange, it seems
Is doomed to nightmares, never sweet dreams
Because poetic phrases have never been said
About glorious orange where the sun treads
Or the beauty of an orange bloom
Constantly yearning to brighten the room.
So, it is for orange I've written this poem
This poor deprived color I've given a home.
So what if nothing rhymes
With this fruit related to lemons and limes?

...After all, what's wrong with ending in orange?