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 The Unfairness Of Angels

dreamweavertheunfairnessofangels
the colours of reality




I dip in my brush and use the Red
Like the embarrassed virgin in her bed
Her burning cheeks are like fire particles
Red, the cardinal of carnivals
And as the day soon becomes night
I use the winter colour of white
Painting my pale face of death
As snowflakes stain my cold sullen breathe
And as I feel the ghostly chill down my back
I paint the evening's sky, a shade of black
And cast the dark magic of evil
As my brush goes to the easel
I am the artist I paint what is true
As morning brings a desirable blue
The colour of the sea
And the filth of the blue movie
Of which many I have seen
I smile to myself as I paint the grass of green
The taste of weed between my lips
And feel the seasickness felt on ships
As I smoke the green I feel so mellow
As I paint the shining sun of yellow
As my imagination shines like the yellow light
I lose grip of what's in my sight
And then I see clearly in front of me
The colours of reality.







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