colours we are in

to face the colour we embody

there is a colour that is shoddy

it gives us life and death alike

it gives a maiden of malice and strife

this maiden shows no mercy for us

it gives us none but a surface tear up

to be of one is to be of all

to be loved is to be given a shawl

when one is cold and blue strikes nine

we cry ourselves a wonderous chime

to be ourselves is accepting colour

to accept the rainbow, our mother

when we're in tune we do not rhyme

we make it up all the time

when we are loved there is no reason

to not bear it all four seasons

When we see the clockwork chirp

we end a day on another word

we do not reason there is no shine

to forward thinking; a rhyme