I wonder what color my soul is
Is it black and dark as moonless night
An empty void which nothing fills
And leaves me barren without sight
Is it the color of the purest seas
The deepest clearest blue
Under which I believe
Live sprung, how about you
Is this abstract thing
A yellowish tint
Or could it be green
The natural color of nature’s bliss
I think that is the one I would favor
I’d be content and remiss
So sweet for me to savor
Is my soul white and vaporous
Like some phantom of specter
That when we grasp it will it elude us
Or is my soul merely a construct
Of pompous fools
Who seek to wreak havoc and deconstruct
All that man has achieved
You can feel as you will
But as for me I believe
My soul is in the art I make
The beauty and the sorrows
With which a pen I create
To share with all of our tomorrows