I may know yours,

But what are mine?


For sadness


For pain

Or clear

Like the never-ending rain?

Maybe I am white,

For secrets abound,

I may be green,

Like the grass on the ground,

Maybe I am orange,

Gluttonous to no shame,

Or maybe purple,

Swimming in vain,

Or red

Like love and lust and anger fierce,

Or gray

Like the dullness the silences pierce.

Be I red

Like the robin's soft breast,


Like the lion that never does rest,

Or green,

Like the envy that burns in my soul,

Or pink,

Like the paper that never was whole.

Be what I am,

What colours me painted,

Chance meeting on canvas,

To draw what is seated.

I am all put together,

I am rainbow,

And grayscale

I am the steel gray

Of the pipe

And the rust

Of the rail.

I may know yours,

But what are mine?