GRAYISH GRAY: poem

Bland little boy,
you’re such a faded gray mess
What happened to the days long ago
when you still had your neon glow, and
your bright and blinding smile 
shined freely?

It was truly beautiful, infectious, 
your prismatic grin, and your aura was like
a gorgeous kaleidoscope blazing 
across the cosmos spitting vivid 
sparks of pure joy

Tell me, dull one, when was it that you lost
your colorful bubble? What terrible thing
turned you to this grayish gray bum who
can’t smile—even though he has no reason
not to? Who put you in this monochrome room playing
grayish blue tunes trying to feel
something inside? Who made your heart dead
and desert-dry like your eyes? Why won’t your
tears do what they’re supposed to?

I’m sorry, I’m not comprehending, what awful hurt
could have possibly incurred
to leave this twisted spell spreading 
charcoal over every inch of your once 
psychedelic 
soul?

What worthless, vile ghost stole every trace of
color from your spirit’s beautiful flame? Explain,
what GIANT WAVE crashed down
upon your burning brilliance to make it all fade
away—leaving nothing
in its wake but murky, muddy seafoam?

My sad, bland boy . . .
is it too late to pull you back into the light?
When you look in the mirror, can you 
spot a flicker of color still inside your eyes? 
Like the sunrise
after a cold, cloudy night, 
will you return soon to me,
resurrected in radiant blues, pinks and purples
in the wet morning sky?

Color version: