While there can be infinite colors
That you let into your life,
The bleakness you've repelled
Will stalk and wait—
Searching for a crack in the light
To flood with infection.
So simply seal the pinholes
With the gold you've collected,
With the strong heart that pumps
Your blood,
Or meet it with the muddied
Palette that carries
Unpleasantries—it can't be worse!
Some methods may heal
And others may only slow the spill.
And there's always a chance
For terrible spores to exist
In all the colors,
Making them fade, but if you
Keep a close eye on the corners,
The vastness of your life
May never grow dull,
And your diligent work will pay off.