I Am Obsidian

Could you be any less colorful?

This statement reoccurs in an endless cycle

Of all the colors one could be, I am obsidian

The shadow every eye overlooks

Delusional I once was, thought paints of vibrant hues covered my body

Blinded by naive ignorance to notice what is truly flamboyant

Mother nature gives and takes

Perhaps she took a little too much from me

Resentment to those who glow dominated my mind

I can’t help but be jealous, I’m sorry

Mother nature gave them a little too much

The shadow I am only serves the purpose to observe, and observe I have

Red is the star athlete, for he radiates passion for activity

Orange is the artist, only she could create one of a kind paintings

Yellow is the gardener, his flowers reflect the joyous charisma he carries

Green is the scientist, she’s on a voyage of discoveries, problems don’t stand a chance

Blue is the teacher, his lectures inspire generations to come

Purple is the queen, she protects her subjects far before herself

White is the baby, he knows no evils in this world

Obsidian is me, sitting in the corner of a room, noticed by none

But soon realization flowed to me like water over rock:

Obsidian is a mix of all the colors