Better than Gray

I used to be gray

A dull, neutral gray, reaching corner to corner

Some minor variations could be seen, if you looked close enough

And the hue always complemented the other paintings, always matched

Sometimes other colors appeared, but they were inevitably covered with sooty gray

I was safe.

But I needed color

Gray was poison in my veins, suffocating me with ashes

Who is the painter that chose such a cruel and dreary shade

When will I shine bright and vibrant like a cave of sparkling gems

My canvas stretched into a vast, shallow ocean of smoke, obscuring and lifeless, until

I took the brush.

A sword in my hand

Color burst into my world with an explosion

First a bright pink and cheerful yellow danced and twirled

Sensual scarlet and sophisticated green sang in sonorous harmony

Gold and silver sparkled and shined, and a rich navy flowed and swirled

Where did they all come from?

I saw other brushes

Mine was not the only hand painting

They excitedly added to my canvas, purple here, orange there

I enjoyed some of their tints and dyes, like a peaceful pastel purple

But others frightened me, the harsh and angry reds or weeping speckled blues

Was gray better?

No.

I will not go back

I choose color with all its joy and pain

Because color is what makes life worth living

Every shade is a symphony, every pigment an artwork

They balance and contrast, together forming a beautiful masterpiece

Color is better than gray.

Yes, color is better than gray.