Colour Of Me

I had painted myself,

in every colour of

your rainbow,

but none ever felt

like home

to me.

I’ve been yellow

like the sands

of my gods,

and blue

as the oceans,

that carried

my roots;

but never a colour

I could ever

truly be.

It must be known,

in this quest for

my colour,

my core

did often break;

my soul left

empty, as if

lost at sea,

I’d sometimes be

hard to shake.

And so, when

I had tried on

every shade

of colour,

to have ever

be seen;

I mixed

them all up,

like paint

with a brush,

and set

my own

colour

free.