The Only Color, Kills Me Now Poem by Max McGovern

The Only Color, Kills Me Now



In the foreground
Of the paint shop-
There stood a sprightly looking man.

Courteous and charismatic
Colors were his favourite scam

For in the back
There sat a rack
Of little grey can after can.

The priests by piece
Came down the streets
To paint their prison walls anew.
Then recollected
Asked for help
Regarding color calls to choose.

The brightly man
Would gladly greet
Than hand a sheet
A’right behind him.

To poor old soul-
The color blind whole-
Who scans the racks and has to find them.

Shades and shades and shades
Of grey,
but not a lonely dropp of think.
He holds the sheet out
One by one comparing greys
Without a blink.

The matcher of the shades of grey
His life and works are in his eye,
But watching-
Arms length
Down the rows-
Is just enough to make one cry.

2/26/08

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