A color scheme settles, into the black and white.
The areas once shaded, crosshatched, and scratched out
Have been evenly filled in with vibrant colors.

A yellow sets itself within the confines of lines on a page
As the dense blue stains heavy paper, with a bold sincerity.

Details without color, drew out texture and description.
Greens brought out life in these lines,
Red, added a thrill and suspense.

I am black and white,
I am simple, but complex to the detail.
Let's not ruin a good thing,
Color is complexity.

You are the ice that layers itself under the snow,
And what I have to watch out for with each step, as I walk.
You are always there, in my mind.
But you are not always here, because if you are I can't see you.

It seems so complex,
The way that you linger around
Even after you're long gone.
But this is as simple as ice in the winter.

When I think it is safe to run,
I may slip and fall down again.
Because you are always there.
You are always here, my ice.

I can not rid you from my life entirely,
as much as I wish it were possible.
I will make the same mistakes,
If I do not watch where I am walking.

I must live with the realization that the ground is not solid.
knowing that walking on, is not as easy as I have remembered.

All these little pick me ups that you drop off, they weigh me down.
and I cant even move around. In fear that I, might make a sound.

For if I call, they wont catch me,
And if I fall I will drown.

Here I stand to wait my turn. Here I stand, for I have learned.
My dear we all have ups and downs, just as our faces have smiles, and frowns.
Some days we may want to turn around, and not face the path we're walking down.

For if I call, they wont catch me.
If I fall, I will drown.

A morning breeze crawls in through the window
Over the skin and  across my back..
A shiver and then a sigh,
A little too cold, and a little too dry.

I've set my sights upon a silent space,
Where I may show no feeling, and withhold all grace.
Wrapped in thoughts of many topics,
My mind's but a storm in the tropics.

To move, to walk, or to run along,
To never stop if you are strong.
To keep a pace, to win your race,
To gain just what one can't replace.

A leaf rolls by, on an early august
Mourning,
With wind by its side, in a sky,
Worth adorning.

Where will wind take, this leaf to its fate.
Is this love, or is it hate?

A breeze moves this leaf,
It lifts it up high
And allows it to fly,
But only by the wind and its sky.

Without the wind the leaf would land,
And have to learn it can not fly,
Only by wind in the sky.