Black

Devoid of Color -

Isn't that what you say of Black, Science?

Yes. As if bereft of life, a pallor.

But I find that you, Black, resplendent in my conscience.

Aren't you always there on every online page and print,

Speaking volumes of the lives of others and events.

Speaking of which, no matter how fanciful the tint

You provide the stable reasoning for my judgement.

Not to say that it makes my heart Black

With Spite or Green with Envy or Whatever with Emotion.

Your written pronouncement fills me with something I did lack -

With every note, I develop a notion.

Speaking of which, why's your connotation always a wrong one, mate?

Isn't it conspiratorial how blackmail and blacklist

Have all come about, as if anything White must be great.

Makes me Blue for you, this wretched twist.

Don’t get me wrong - I have no problem with Science;

I am a man of it, for it, even full of it sometimes!

It’s Politics that gets my Red blood boiling in defiance.

’Tis but a legitimacy for Black-hearted people to commit crimes,

Perpetuate wars and generally behave badly, wouldn’t you say?

And don’t get me started on the “Political Science” term!

It’s an oxymoron of the highest order, this wordplay.

Anyway, before I get too far, wide or deep,

Perhaps I ought to simplify things too.

Of all the Colors, as you are the black sheep

Let me pronounce that Black, I love you!