Colors

She guides me in and sits me down. Not the Remington portable typewriter this time. I grab a pen and some parchment they have more life i believe. The mechanical twists and clanks sound so hollow. In this depression my colored skin only attracts sorrow. I would like to escape on one of those planes high in the sky. I dream of a ticket to ride wings to tomorrow. If only this ear piece of gold was worth mountains of gold. Everything so stagnant, grey and cold. She offers a cig of course i say no. I see the ashtray full of lipsticked butts. Each puff takes life from her soul. How to be free from this life. They yell and throw stones. My darling my lover to hide our love isn't right. I see only our union it's colorless. Why must everyone else see black and white.