what a palette
he liked it black and white with no greys in between
even when cracks appeared so strikingly evident
strictly speaking he preferred pink purple and orange
yet when life gave him lemons the brush would not work
the more he stroked and tarred over ruptures and fractures
uncertainty became elusive and poignantly concise
quite the opposite of what he had bargained for with all
the power delusion distraction insecure fear and despair
he knew that the writing was on the wall and yet
the language was foreign complex and would not reveal
meaning message beauty connotation and guidance
as he was blocked into silence depression resentments
all this had been the relentless story of his life and he
could not bear it any longer seemed to have lost all control
a rational mind portrayed it as the gift of desperation
a way forward towards healing perspective and peace
it was difficult to will positive emotions into effect
matters did not fall into balance but skewed misperceptions
what remained was hope rather than mere expectations
and he carried his burdens into an unpredictable but promising future
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