What colour are my scratched out words?
How much does each white detached syllable weigh?
What mix of black, white, brown and yellow does spectrum afford?
So many summer thoughts and winter emotions I equally wish to convey,
Does every spring rainbow have a segregated ribbon of quality light attached?
If autumn poetry were quintessential food what would each defining colour say?
I wonder if coloured words should be qualified or matched?
If human language finally turns purple and orange on every page,
If quaint nature finally steals away every natural and sacred patch,
Will coloured words want to make war on nature's changing stage?
If we wake speaking in tongues what colour would humans freely attach?
Black and white letters familiarly connected in black and white mete,
Such a linguistic spectrum quaveringly discordant and quiveringly ratcheted,
Queer words hatcheting truth and smothering lies in grey concrete,
Quid quo pro preaching colourless dialect and bland foreign accents,
Bleached out words spoken on quiescent corners of every mnemnomic street.