The Dalton

There are times when you feel lost,
Like a Jew corpse in holocaust.
You would want your eyes to be drained in the crimson,
Or drenched in a blue lit fountain,
Oh the bloods in your veins run red,
But it looks black to this head,

People say it’s wicked to have shades of grey,
My God I can’t tell the difference any way.
The glorious colour of gold,
Anyone could tell blind fold.
But the fact shall never be told,
By this man who sees the world in bold.

The blue of the sky,
The collages in a butterfly,
The lips of a girl,
The brown of a chocolate swirl,
The orange which oozes luminance,
The lamp which drips fluorescence.
Nothing would be seen,

Oh life is so mean,
Will I ever see green?
Will I ever see red?
Before I hit the deathbed,
The truth is that I would never have anything to find,
Damn! I am totally colour blind.


3 thoughts on “The Dalton

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