The polychromatic features of my mind are shining
as the white light hits my eyes
Bright colors bursts and burns wholes in the black and white images I used to keep,  burning the old periodicals of my past life,
I cease to see the enriching shades of many colors,
like shades blocking rays from the sun,
the colors become an image of my soul,  
a beautiful painting, mounted on a wall, never to move or fall,
only to be posted up at a famous museum for people to stare and criticize,
then theres that one person who looks upon and hopes to buy
but a price for this piece could be priceless
a painting at ease in time, with colors essential to mankind.
Color blind like dogs, to the them images are colorless
No room for peace or an open mind.
A person dripped in black tears falling from eyes of false hope.
Hopelessness becomes the very thing I use to cope.