Poetry - "Colours"

I see a sea
of colours
floating,
mingling,
merging.
Then a colour
(call it blue)
decides it's a
superior hue.
Pushing to the forefront,
it tries to shove all others
out of focus, for
it believes itself
King of the colours.
I see another shade
(call it red)
rise up as if
from the dead.
The luminescences battle,
causing a garish schism.
It is a futile fight,
for fortunately
the painter attributed
equal glory
to every colour.
In the end, those hues
which tried to receive more
than their dues
only paint themselves
ugly.
Let not the picture
be spoiled,
especially for those colours
yet to be painted.


This poem is featured in the anthology Warts & All.