Two devilishly distinct,
Blend in shades of paint:
Mulberry blue, fuchsia pink,
Assaulting my bedroom wall.
Most unpleasant above it all,
Appearing out of sync.
I'm appalled!
I felt saddened for the wall.
The manner in which the colors befallen,
Now without the liquid portion,
The pigments and binder had surfaced.
Spread in sooner spreading rumor,
Darkened with a lagging sense of humor!
Malignant as a tumor,
Grown to reveal a zit.
I suspect an expensive cost for this,
Primer lurking beneath the etch!
I find it hard to think!
I'm trying hard to blink!
Sneering like I'm smelling stink.
Magenta, Magenta,
Is it mauve or is it crimson?
Is there a similarity?
What's the polarity?
It's hard to tell the difference.
In violet light, it compliments a darker shade of green.
If it is to settle in, then settle in is all,
If it is to dye, then dye, and get it on.
I refused to be seduced,
And the least bit amused.
First time I'd seen it.
Last time I deemed it,
Too crowded for my space,
Too licentious for my taste.
The problem is a meddlesome,
Harmful hue in blue.
A ruthless run of red,
Must be repainted immediately.



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