Stripped of my rainbow.
Spectrum boiled into gloaming gray.
Marbles lost.
Shaved into dusk.
Tinted vision squints the eyeballs.
I try to pen a picture of my old self.
But I am a paltry artist.
I cannot sketch.
Nobody buys my drawing.
I wipe tears with sponges.
The canvass blots.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem