Time To Color My World

Nine years old using periwinkle to outline a cloud.

There's dark green for a pine tree and- Stop!

I'm told I'm not allowed.

-

Clouds are not blue, they are fluffy white.

Tree bark's not green! I must know it's brown!

Now, once again- but right.

-

And while I'm at it, use bright yellow to make that flower

Daffodils are delicate and drawn just so

Said the one in power.

-

I tucked away blue, picked up brown for the trees.

Red for the rose, white for the clouds: and practiced anew

Until I could draw how she sees.

-

And that's how it started and stayed as the years went by,

I didn't protest or fuss, that just wasn't my way.

And I didn't ask why.

-

I learned I was wrong, learned to do as I'm told.

What I saw was not right, what I thought could not be.

Safer meek and not bold.

-

I went on like that denying my colors day/month/and age.

Seeing blue, saying white- saying brown, knowing green.

Until I turned a new page.

-

The life that I live- my time is sprinting, it's going by fast.

Why deny who I am, why hide the way that I see?

Time to break with the past.

-

I use all the colors now and draw as I please.

Lavender sunset clouds, orange roses rimmed in teal,

Pales leaves on green trees.

-

I'm no longer that child, cowed into doubting my way.

My life bursts in patterns, bright shades and rich hues.

True colors here to stay.

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