Colourful Mess

I’m not all white, I’m not all black
And there are many things I lack.
I’m not all good, I’m not all bad—
So many faces I have had.

There’s red in me, there’s also blue
And what I’ve done, I can’t undo.
There’s orange, yellow, also grey,
There’s fear, cruel sadness and dismay.

There’s something green and something brown,
Sometimes I smile, sometimes I frown.
At times, there’s purple, then there’s pink,
Now I am great and then I shrink.

So many colours, all within,
Now I’m a nightmare, then—a dream.
I’m not all white, I’m not all good,
Truth only now I’ve understood…

I’m all of it, shallow and deep,
I hardly cry, I quickly weep,
I show myself and then I hide;
All colours, thus, in me reside.

I’ve got the words and all is well,
Then they’re no more—we bid farewell;
So what am I? A shaken jar
And all the colours mix as one.

– Patricia