New Colors

Coated in layers,

of bright colored paint.

Burying the wood,

under love, fear and hate.

Moved and removed,

legs still stand.

Can I be new, in a foreign land?

Cracking like a log,

the mind begins to flake.

Bright painted colors,

keep the mind awake.

Sand it down to nothing,

grind it smooth and brown.

New is bad I hate to flake, 

strip the colors down.

Wipe me clean and take me back,

to the old steady state.

Or pretty soon you'll see with truth,

this old table break.

Reviews

[Kelly Scheppers]

We all could use a little buffing to bring out our shine. Good to meet you, Dana!