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- 500 Shades

 

I hide inside watching from the stained glass eyes 500 shades of red dance
With 500 shades of gray
The last festival of humility
With just enough room for a baby's first breath
Mama, papa don't come home
Arch my recollection in two
Bent over at war with pink porcelain greeting card of the viewing that you
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Strings from the hair of the eleventh prophet stretched and strung across
The smile
Fingering sorrow's harp
My fingers now cracked and blistered
Call the pain master and i'll bow at request
Silver stares back before it browns and crusts
Silver still reflects the spillage

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