The Colours of Me

Mornings I feel the vigors of Pastel Yellow

I flit and move, incessantly not mellow

Afternoon and here comes Mr. Blue

Ready to bid my Pastel Yellow adieu

Caffeine as aught releases Mr. Red

Therefore Mr. Blue no longer abed

Mr. Red charges like there is no morrow

And yet I am left with much sorrow

For when Mr. Red begins to fade

Out comes the dour Mr. Gray

Alas! I feel as if confined in a grave

As Night approaches, my sanity is saved

As Mr. Midnight Black comes into the foray

And as I lay in bed, swirling thoughts at an end

I cannot wait to see all my colours again