The flying colors struggle to break free
But they're caged in my body because my mind tells them that
They'll only be seen as black and white
In this world painted by other artists
With better shades, different hues
The most fierce of red and enchanting of blues

And what am I to them?

I'm merely faded greens, dying yellows
The color of flowers that die come winter
Colors used and blended a million times over.

Because I was once a color that was never quite right
And I changed myself, mixed myself up
I threw myself around palettes like I was worth nothing
And now I don't know what I am.