White, Peach, Pink, Red...

White, Peach, Pink, Red-

The faces clear with natural hues formerly

Brunet now marks all- toe to head

Do not you sense it all happ’nd too early.. ?!?!?!

Where on earth do you stand, My Dear

No Aristotle, No Shakespeare could you compare

What is mak’n you fly over Murky cloud

None else just you hear your voice in the air.

To roar and roar high is a waste

To make ‘them’ get through your False taste

‘They’ seem least pleased by Void

Of  your head;

And your boast seems a truly vague paste.

The one whose head feels enlightenment

Favors the silent move to run on high

Those with Hay, go loony in false excitement

Seeing them, ‘their’ bosom runs with a fervent cry.

No fire of the Sun would melt the paint

No blaze would let it dissolve

No Adam’s ale would wash the taint

No adhesion would get solved…..

………………………………………………………………

…………………..

………………