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Poem	White, pristine, unblemished They say it is not a color I love white mists, clouds Lingering on blue mountains. White, no shades No off white, cream Pure as snow on shimmering peaks Is my favorite sight. Nurses, priests, politicians Are bound, chained to white White nebulous clouds evoke deep nostalgic thoughts. They swaddled my father in white As he lay in the black coffin His best shirt was white His loin cloth was white. The paper I write is white White is holy, pure They say light is white Because it combines all colors. So white is the mother of all colors The churning of all yellow, blue, green Colors sacrifice their egos To the eternal white. They say they are "white" The purest of all races I think they aren't white But pink, beige and red. Why can't colors of people Merge and become white Would people called "white" Allow their color to merge? Is white a color? The matriarch of all colors The fountain of all extent colors Yes, king white reigns supreme!
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