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.