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Children will  hear children will be told
Of the stories of once, in colors so bold
Only black and white are left in this world
The rest all have turned to mould
Grey is the sky, grey is the ground
The sparks up above are turning black 
as they fly around
Tears rolling down faces in monochromatic eye's
Everything is colourless or have we 
Just become color blind? 
Yet in my hands, I hold this little
Polychromatic portfolio, seeing 
all of those colors left so long ago
Wherever you are and wherever you grow
Please reappear into this black and white hold
Where have all the colors gone to? 
Please tell me if you know or have they 
vanished down below
Get them quick, get them bold
If you want your black and white stories
Bleed color as you grow old! 

Copyright © Carol Mitra | Year Posted 2024


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Book: Reflection on the Important Things