Watch them paint their colours onto the wall
that stretches to infinity, so achingly bare.
Watch them paint, splash red and black;
their love and sorrow.. always to linger there.
From small paint pots they will unleash
great tangerine tropic birds that fly to permanency
and from these pots like from their souls,
will leap these colours, yearning to forever be
stamped on this wall. To exist in beauty or
in pain as a reminder of the colours of the world and
be washed away by rain, by snow, by tears,
or last through the ages and triumph the coldhearted
judgement of some modern years...
When so many ignorant people may gaze upon this wall,
and see colours, shapes and lines
but never once realize what it's stood through
and the lives that it proudly defines.