Eventually facades disintegrate,
exposing to the wind and elements
the underlying structure of one’s hates
and loves; a truth unswayed by compliments
or jeers of those who’ve sided pro and con.
Reality cannot be spun without
becoming dizzy, color growing wan,
and color’s what the truth is all about.
You frame a way of life in monochrome,
but prisms never split in black and white;
the more the line is drawn, the more you roam
across it to create a wrong from right.
Eventually facades disintegrate
revealing structures form and thus, its fate.