You see the world in black and white.
I see it bathed in waves of light.
Yet both of us still chase the sky—
we’re not that different, you and I.
Your footsteps fall on solid ground.
Mine echo back with shape and sound.
They each have color; I don’t know why—
we’re not that different, you and I.
You laugh when joy comes close to you;
I do the same, in colors too.
We both know love, we both can cry—
we’re not that different, you and I.
So do not turn, don’t call me strange
when I talk of colors and shapes that change.
Beneath it all, the same hearts lie—
we’re not that different, you and I.
Mar 18
Mar 18, 2026 at 1:53 PM UTC
You see the world in black and white.
I see it bathed in waves of light.
Yet both of us still chase the sky—
we’re not that different, you and I.
Your footsteps fall on solid ground.
Mine echo back with shape and sound.
They each have color; I don’t know why—
we’re not that different, you and I.
You laugh when joy comes close to you;
I do the same, in colors too.
We both know love, we both can cry—
we’re not that different, you and I.
So do not turn, don’t call me strange
when I talk of colors and shapes that change.
Beneath it all, the same hearts lie—
we’re not that different, you and I.
I wrote this based off of the story 'A Mango-Shaped Space' by Wendy Mass
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