Color me purple
and black and bruised,
but please I beg you
spare my pride!
But color if you must
if coloring does,
to give warmth and control
to this life.
Color me crazy
with every possible hue,
if it suits you to
color me in.
And paint a better picture
than the one in my head,
yes please color instead
from within.

Little dots on the page
make plays at stage
and with time will age
less of grace.
The little lines they leave
will then want and weave
about endlessly
lost in space.
But with luck and time
some may intertwine
and build line by line
to replace.
That should time review
and see it built anew
there’d be left words too true
to erase.