Listen please,
  I hear the call
As the paint drips
  From the wall and
Onto the floor.

We are redecorating
Only, we are temporary
As we splatter
To get out the past.
  But hey, I like
  This color
As my hands are
Coated with some
  Thick lacquer
That holds my nails
And wrinkles of my skin.

This hue will go well
With what we don’t have
As the brush smears
The globs
Of pastel
And wipes out
The wallpaper,
Of the previous owner.
Layered away
We discolor,
In layers we
Bury them.