A little paint with a bucket of salt
Pays the cost for artistic free-dum
A splattered masterpiece waged
By the weak hand...
Foreclosed ingenuity habitually paints
Beyond borders, diluting true colors
With venomous thinners, hissing
Deceptive imagery sifted of respect
Drawing brushes from buckets
Standing back and sling-aiming
Iodine coloring on aggravated verbal wounds,
That serves as wool for eyes
Affecting the ambiance's dynamic
What's the use waiting
for the blind to behold?
Can true colors be depicted in Braille?