Paint Me

paint me a face, paint me one so blue that I can barely laugh or coo, paint me till the colour of my skin no more exist, but all you see is the gloom, peering in sympathy through my window panes. paint me my dear, don't be shy, it's been long I took my time and listened to the cries, and heard for myself what's been wailed on the streets, for it's been long indeed I sat and felt the pain of the weak, as life has been one on the move and no time to feel. paint me so I can hang on those walls that discriminate your young, and be a reflection of your strength and courage paint till the bristles of your brush prick my skin, paint till your hands get weary, but your heart lightened by the sharing of your grief, paint me the colour of your grief, so I can judge beyond the common colour of a skin. paint me my love, paint me with every shade of red, from the colour of your blood to the colour of mine, and our thumping hearts harmonise in warm kisses of the night, eyes glowing bright in the dark till morning light, like antelopes in a searing jungle. paint me oh sister, paint me the pain of the birth of your young, a shade of joy and anguish. paint me till I scream your voice in the colour of my strides, as a woman learning from a girl, yearning to be free from the shackles of my teen.