Please Don’t Color My Roses Red, Son!

Please don’t color my roses red, Son!
I want to see the truth that you see,
The way I once saw before they told me how to see.
I want you to show me what I once saw,
Before they told me how to color a flower,
With green leaves,
And the two petals splayed like arms
All the same
As them.
Please don’t color my grass green Son!
I want to see the beautiful earth
Reflecting prisms of sunshine
Speckled with glimmering lights from your eyes,
Which are also mine,
Though I can only see what
They’ve taught me to see.
All the same
As them.
Please don’t color my sky blue, Son!
I want to see the heavenly majestic
subtleties of the orgasmic
beyond the 16 count box,
That have yet to know a name,
Before I was tainted by the same institution I placed you in.
All the same
As me.
So please forgive me and color my roses whatever fancy you see
In the honesty of your mind’s eye,
And I promise to remember what I saw before I was mind-washed
if you show me how.
And I’ll remind you along the way,
So that you’ll not forget what it is Before they try to teach you how to color a rose red,
Inbetween the bold black lines.
And we will survive
And be the same
As we always were,
As we always are.
As we are.

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