The world is gray.
He listens to the world each day
A world that falls in disarray.
A world of dreamers made of clay.
But not today.
Reluctant to the taste of facts
The poet acts.
He disappears,
And even though he is still there
Looking deep into his eyes
You won't find truths, you won't find lies
No cheerful love, nor loss or fears,
No smiles, no tears.
But in his eyes, you'll find colors everywhere.














































