Vantage point

Friday, August 22, 2003

The brush strokes drown
Me in a splash of purpleish red
First I cringe and frown
For my whiteness is now dead
But then I see my neighbour
Also touched by the artiste's labour
Seems to beam and preen
For it has now turned green
Other spots around me too
Celebrate their brand new colour
While I bemoan my lost pallor
Was that all I could do?
Suddenly I felt elated
For the monotony so squalid
Vanishing though belated
Made my cribs invalid
So happy I sat there
Without a futile care
For I wasn't now white
But something even more right
I got over my pique
The bigger picture cleared
The sameness that I feared
Was gone! I too was unique!