We just painted the kitchen,
which in dogs years is forever
(never to be confused with
refusing to paint).
You see, in my heart
it’s the color chart I fear.
And to be clear, that wheel
just makes me feel tense.
The pretense of picking a shade
to be sprayed on the walls
Should we pick a green
for an outdoorsy scene?
Or a yellow for mellow dining?
Perhaps a refining blue
will do the trick.
And so it begins, I’m getting sick.
There must be a way to end this abuse?
What if I say a lovely chartreuse
would be a good choice?
Could I smile and rejoice
or would we return to the wheel?
I’m starting to reel at the thought
and find myself overwrought.
Let’s paint the darn thing in blacks.
Is this how we get heart attacks?
© Susan Schoeffield
Written for the 8/24/14 prompt at Creative Bloomings to write a “color” poem.