A colorless world is a sample of perfection,
Yet Ironically depriving the very toxin we live on.
No individuality, but no discrimination.
Erasing what we hate, but also what we long.

Grey is our aging skin,
a fair median in between.
Is this good or is this bad?
Proving nothing is what it seems.

Nothing for others to point out or see,
To either abruptly dislike or longingly praise.
No black nor white, sinful or pure.
Victims to blindness, good in many ways.

No stereotypical colors to chain us down,
Yet no wretched colors to be curled.
Does it really matter? The coloring of our soul.
In the debatable, twisted, colorless world.
 
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