Ramblings Poem by shimon weinroth

Nothing, is forever, anything can change
Everything has a never, Nothing is, forever
an inside out sleeve, a turned down collar
rumpled crumpled trouser leg

The word is dead, begins to live when it is said
rich creamy metaphor, dripping shady grey and bright
implicatures, no black and white
straight off similies will not do
for tinctures and colored hues

how many meanings lurk in between red to violet
motion denied, objection overruled tolerance
for variability, intolerance for absolutes