The color of the fruit

S.D. Sycther

I see something called color

Blind I am to the very own brightness of love;

Sleep there the wonders of truth and belies the mud of rightness.

I can be lost around cause I don't have the world of brightness.

But fantasies keep me on track and I shall be there forever.

fiddles fast foot forward, I care you not and you dare to be clever.

I see they say something called color and belies the grit of unknown tree;

She learns on and leans on the very own spree;

Feet of the unknown the fastest fingers of three.

See the ocean calls you and darkness called thee;

They see that the color is the thing is what they see.

I see there are smiles and there is something called glee.

Sleep this none whether better feels the girth and dies the birth.

I see they say the thing called color;

I see, they say the thing called color.

=s=