My life in full color.

What makes me unique is not a singular color.

Some parts are gaudy and as juicy as a cruller,

Some others are pastel or maybe even duller.

But the mix is what makes me, when run through the muller.

(Now let me tell you of it, and that in full color)

Black and red and gold is where my bumpy story starts.

Born into poverty and in the country’s worst parts.

Polychrome is my brain, for I’m a soul of the arts.

That’s always been the case, and I used it to win hearts.

White was the early snow that danced through unimpressed height,

When my humble self was born one crisp Decembers’ night.

Grey were my senses when met by unforgiving light.

A long faded memory of a small life’s first sight.

Hot red was the air that filled my early childhood’s home.

A mood so oppressive, my dreams burst like bubbly foam.

Red my grandad’s nose who one day lift’ that dismal dome.

From this crucial point on we would move, wander and roam.

Black my poor mothers thoughts, burdened from her past mistrial.

Until new love was found, like a genie in a vial.

Pride was her color now, it was so long in denial.

And thus I had two Mamas now, entwined like strong lisle.

Wilted brown were the flowers I now kept for my own,

For thenceforth my mother saw just her new love alone.

Green were my ears, for I was still not completely grown,

When I left all behind, my soulscape cold to the bone.

Grey once more were those days that framed my subsequent life.

The eyes of the big city left my soul in a strife.

Red was the wine I kept like a loyal beaten wife,

Though her sweet flattery cut my poor brain like a knife.

Bright blue were the eyes of my dear love at second gaze.

She took me out of that hole, and for that she earns praise.

Black and full sorrow the day when we had to part ways.

Oh, how I wish back those elating and joy-filled days.

But still dark were the shadows of my past all the same.

Running from such bitter truths remained trying in vain.

Bright was the idea that then sparked like a Bunsen flame:

I ruled that I have had enough and changed my first name.

Neon was the period, fueled by my second wind.

Devil knows the substances with which I gladly sinned.

Red my bank-numbers that left me wanting and chagrined.

My future somewhat safe but it still got my back pinned.

Muted the cycle of all that trying and failing.

One odd job and another without any scaling.

But agleam my intent to avoid a derailing.

I got out of it all with deep ex- and inhaling.

Grey is the hair of someone massively important.

There is nothing in this world where we aren't accordant.

Grey was the age of someone carnally absorbent.

I lost a good old friend ‘cause he deemed it abhorrent.

Black is my pal with high fur-to-body relation.

I take him everywhere, even on a vacation.

Brown my instrument of choice with classic foundation.

But it never turned into a serious vocation.

Blue again the iris of my now proper bound man.

With sufficing rationale we built up this new clan.

Red and white waves the flag of our venturesome plan.

We invite just the best for as long as time can span.

Now I sit here surrounded by these colors I know.

Some colors I do hide while some others I can show.

But no matter the feelings from now and long ago.

I will keep them at heart ‘til the day I go below.