Pink Is A Fog Trimeric
Possibilities are consistently endless,
rising with the Sun in fortuitous colors.
Over and over again a neoteric start,
blink too quickly and it passes right by.
Rising with the Sun in fortuitous colors,
rose colored glasses feel so good on.
Maybe that’s because pink is a fog.
Over and over again a neoteric start
blooms in the air bringing optimism.
Smiles fan a kaleidoscope of choices.
Blink too quickly and it passes right by,
each morning the sky only knows grey.
Nothing is promised seize every moment.
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