This is for me, is it? Just because it’s pink

Rounded sides no sharp edges, did you ever think

That maybe I don’t want the same as every fucker here

Maybe I have thoughts as well, loud and crystal clear

Maybe I don’t ascribe colour to objects

Through a chance assumption of sex

Personification has gone too far

Boundaries and lines criss-cross like a scar.

 

Because you may have assigned the sheep to white,

The leaves to yellow and green

But from where I’m standing, from my sight

I do believe I’ve seen

A whole array of crayons before me

A whole lot of empty blank spaces

So tell me who are you, sincerely,

To officiate on all these cases

 

So I can paint the star yellow if I want to

Or green or pink or blue

Because following reality can be fun

But fencing it around won’t do.

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