Palaces Brown & Disgraced Crowns

To know, hear, see,
and breathe life in grey.

To look blues in the eye and
make them fade away.

To make the purple bow;
and in a world of illusions, make blacks show.

To violate the glowy white,
and hold pink in spite.

The world of colours all distorted,
until each man turns blind.

If clouds were ivory gold,
and mud graced green’s threshold.
If grass were charred to black-
What is it that our lives would lack?

If lilac and beige were carrots,
and burgundy, the rabbits.
If red was calm, and yellow, cross.
If silver was a pauper’s pot-
Would the nobility still be haute?

If a King lived in a palace brown-
Would it disgrace the crown?

We’ve set the cast and moulded it all,
chiseled away for a ball.

So would a chip, a melt, a remould hurt?
If I painted the sky pink, would I be too curt?

© achillesheelpoetry, 2022

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