Colors

Upon a swirling array of colors

The black of night appears

Among the people jealous

The lust of love appeals

And so the story is weaved

Within a silver web

Knowing nothing more

Then the sheets inside his bed

Poor mister, he can’t hear

He’s a deaf inside a mute

But he can always see

The laces on his shoes

Because he sees these colors

He walks the streets awry

Swaying both his legs

To make everything alright

But he knows that something’s missing

Something he really needs

Inside his broad chest of his

His beating heart it bleeds