White is lonely,
White is cruel,
White is scorning of the fool.
White is endless,
White is bright,
It blinds the eyes, engulfs the light.
White is perfect,
Knows no stain,
And when blemished, can’t be whole again.
. . .
White is not my favorite color,
It has a most unpleasant pallor.
It holds no comfort in its heart
Its only purpose to pick apart
All your marks and scuffs and scrapes
All your nicks and cracks and breaks.
…But I can understand its lure.
Perfection what a simple cure
To our pains, aches, and sorrows
Our crippling pasts, worthless tomorrows.
But child, please don’t spend your days
In a deep perfectionist craze.
Humans cannot bleach their skin
Caulk their cracks, reach deep in
Remove their heart, lungs, and intestines
Drain their blood and slash their eyes
Till nothing but sickly pearly white
Glares right back in mirror’s sight
And expect to smile wide
At perfection personified.