I am yellow as a paint can,
With rims, gray and opaque.
I lie sideways on cold floors,
Prisoner to a kick or a shake.
I have no arms and no soul,
But a paint can can still wish.
I see myself growing old
On the fabric of a sturdy canvas.
Blotted gently into golden streams of hair,
Or slashed angrily into demons with eyes of hell,
Or spontaneously splattered into every inch of cloth…
Anyway you use me,
I don’t desire to care
As long as I’m there:
In your saddest days
To paint your insides mellow
Or dry the rain clouding your mind.
I am the lone ray of light
In the deepest of colors…
I am yellow paint,
A shapeshifter that expires in your liking.
Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! If you find it worthy, I wouldn’t mind a follow/❤/share/comment/a cup of tea. Spread the love!
