Daniel Freer, 2012
Sometimes, I think that the world is grey
Or gray
.
To me, grey is like a wolf
While gray is clouds
Poorly drawn
with a crayon.
Luckily, there are hundreds of different colors of crayons
Each with a different personality
A different flair
A different dullness
And on any particular day, I could choose a different color to favor
To hold in my hand as a holy scepter
To grace this wonderful tabula rasa
with a masterpiece
It will be the best, the most beautiful
I will fight every minute
I will not stop
I will not stop
And each day will brave new terrain
Until this masterpiece is complete
And each day will pour out my soul
Until the critics all weep in their seats
And each day will etch a new face
Until a personality is formed
And each day
My attempt to succeed
Will only reveal that there is no such thing as perfection
If only to me
.
When I gaze upon my masterpiece
I am proud
I am not satisfied
Because all I see is clouds
All I see is gray