The yellows, the pinks, the blues--
All of the lively hues
Of our imaginations
They dance silently
As we color the world
With our homely realisms
Refusing to paint the sky,
Paint it our own color,
We live in black and white.
Our words, actions, and beliefs
They are high or low, hot or cold
No greens, reds, or violets to be seen.
Our eyes do not see color.
Our ears do not hear music.
Our feet do not dance.
All the while our imaginations whispering
"The yellows, the pinks, the blues--
Let me paint the world with MY hues."
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