I can't compete anymore-
a picture was painted at birth
and it doesn't reflect who I am on the inside.
I try to shy away from the insecurity
but the shadow creeps up from below my gut-
reminds me I am no longer worthy
convinces me I am nothing.

Seem you are a Monet,
and I am anonymous
thinking in colors
and painting in words-
but you are the physical manifestation
of the thoughts in which encompass my mind.
My outlook is meek again,
it seems I am maureen
because of her.

I try not to make myself
so black and white
and green all over
but envy has become of me.
Breaking away at the seems of beauty
and making a mockery of my outsides.
But the dream is real
and it seems every male knows it too.

Just a shadow to a city street,
a raindrop to a growing garden-
the colors surround her
and I'm stuck in black and white.

Metaphors make more sense
to me then anything else ever has,
you can speak to me in clarity
but I'll still question what it means.

These friends I have
they brighten me
but I'm still so black and white,
a negative of a positive picture
their appearance trumps my attempts
and they think in zest and breathe inside life.

The beauty that behold of them
triumphs over mine-
seems I love to surround myself
with the things that make me smile
even when I'm still black and white
they are the red and gold-
they are the much needed rainbow
after the hectic rainstorm.