“White,” you said. “Let’s paint it white.”
Is it white then?, I wonder
The color to describe that night;
Calm seventeenth of October.

‘I remember,’ you might say
And I’ll tell you, ‘No, you do not’
Not like I do, never this way:
Beautiful, until everything but.

You picked the brush and added blue
“Because you love the sky,” you said
The problem was, I loved you too
“And other things,” I would have said

Two years passed, we met again
But we added no colors
That’s when you turned into this man,
Who drew with me but thought of her

Then you whispered, “I met someone”
“Red,” I said. “Paint it all red”
Until the whites and blues were gone,
And the hues of you and me, dead

I’m thinking, ‘Will you say sorry?’
For a love that never was,
And what became of you and me;
Two hidden paints in red canvas


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