The Secret Of Colours Poem by Praveen Thach

Splashed across the dawn's canvas,
Were many shades of red and blue.
The painters flew in without a pause,
Every bird painted its due.

A cuckoo set the tempo,
While others tried to fit in.
They weren't trained by Picasso,
Yet, got it right with a brush wing.

Maybe they knew the secret of colours,
That they are just like us people.
Different on the outside,
Similar on the insides,
They could always speak for themselves...