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Seven Shades
I’ve been scribbled on this page,
In seven shades of black and gray.
My demented author signs his name,
And all at once my colors fade.
I’ve been cheated on this page,
By seven shades of another name.
Since my paper heart was broken,
My pages haven’t turned the same.
I’ve been rusting on this page,
In seven shades of mold and decay.
And a tiny hint of aquamarine,
Taken from the plumber on Toilet Day.
I’ve been easing off this page,
In seven shades of ache and pain.
I’m off to find a poet who won’t,
Inscribe me in such a ruthless way.
And if such a poet I can’t find,
I’ll limp back to my former page.
And splatter myself below his name,
In seven shades of black and gray.
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