As a child I had come to the belief
That the color black
had no friends.  
Starring at my ceiling in the night,
I would fight,
trying to find the hues of blue, red and green.
Trying as if I were flying without wings  
And all I could think was black is mean.  
Other colors run away  
Because black has no day.
It is the unknown
the future
the past
It is the person that finishes last
-the supposed worst
It is the person that finishes first
-the one that can never quite quench their thirst
It is hatred.
It is love
It is difference
It is normalcy

Black is the friend you are always with.
The moth attracting a flame.  
Hiding from the rain because water washes things away
Our troubles
Fears
Joys  
and Bliss
Who would we be if it were not for everything?  

Black is the absorbtion of all colors  
Instead of being none
It is one

Black is everything I never could be
It hides the flaws I never wish to see.
Black is anything, but me.  

Black is the end of the spectrum we'll never know.
Black is the color with not much to show.