As I sit at a table surrounded by reds,
I feel so inferior, blue fills my head.
They spill out black and blue to all I’ve said,
The air is a blend of purple-grey lead.
Pink and peach flow from what I’ve read,
To think I awoke from whiteness of my bed,
Didn’t know egos so green would need to be fed,
Frankly this meeting- well I’d rather be dead.
Written September 18, 2012
For Lisa Cooper’s contest
“Tickle Me Pink”