A child in the crib
With a revolving toy above
A riot of colours flash
At every adult twirl
I stare confused and scared
‘Give it colours!’ a seasoned matriarch orders
The teething ring is coloured so are the building blocks
Crayons and colouring books follow
‘Flowers aren’t green the sun is not blue!’
‘Boys wear blue not pink
Not red or even orange’
I stand shamed run home to change
While my cronies smirk
Overnight my wardrobe dwindles
To blue, green, grey and white
Why is my world so black and white?
Why are some colours wrong and some right?
Why is nature so free?
The birds especially, and fish of the sea?
Meanwhile, I smoke a white cigarette
Go to work in a blue shirt
Riding my grey bike
My head swims when girls pass by
Do girls appear so beautiful?
Only because their face and clothes are more colourful?