You walk,
through this world,
of black and white.
With your head down,
shoulders slumped,
and smile,
wiped clean,
off your face.
The trees,
no longer,
green.
What,
do you,
think,
if just,
maybe,
you touched,
a leaf?
Would it,
brighten up,
and scream,
at the dullness,
with color?
Along with,
the song,
no one else,
can sing,
you skip,
in splashes,
of puddles.
If you spin,
do you think,
when you made it round,
and round,
would the world,
spin too?