The True Colour
I recall analyzing with some loon
Playing the role of a human being
A role my intellect almost fell for.
The fine night was about to be called soon
Until I’ve witnessed her chance of keying
All cause her functioning brain became sore
Was constructive criticism a sin?
Or was it a chance for her unplanned fleeing?
At least I’ve seen her colour behind a closed door..
Worthless pieces of paper in the bin
and on the floor
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