Wackadoodle0987
Arch-Magnate of the Beau Monde Patriciate
[SIZE=12pt]From where I stand, from where it lies. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]It must of course reflect the skies. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]The skies are blue because they are,
It’s light reflected from our star. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]It has to be that way. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Except for when the sun shines pink[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]But that’s an anomaly do you not think? [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Well, I suppose it could be true
That it doesn’t necessarily have to be blue [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]The impressionists painted it many a hue [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt](But they are more arty than I, or than you). [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]And under the sea (the sea is so deep)
Could it hold other colours? Would that be deceit?
If below the surface which can only reflect
That which falls on it might we not detect
That our old friend the sea that protects you and me
And where life crawled from (just her part destiny)
A billion other colours might possibly glow
Given opportunities inappropriate to what you think you know? [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]So if rejected dog found a place in the sun, [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]And learns by kind voice not hide not to run, [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]With food in his bowl, and his fetters thrown [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Might he not too, show colours his own? [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]If unloved and unwanted he always looked grey, [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Years dreading the thoughts of another day. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Has he then no rights to show who he is [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Not to whimper or simper or try ever to please? [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]But a dog in his own right, not captive, not slave [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]With a billion more chances of life, to behave. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Can you not bear to see what was there? [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Hiding within him under that chair [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt](Trying so hard just not to be there [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Just serving, deserving so much better) [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]And if in dismay, you must run away
Right round the world so not to see, not to say
“Sorry, I was wrong”, who makes herself victim could it be you? [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Who casts herself out, and paints herself [/SIZE]blue.
[SIZE=12pt]It must of course reflect the skies. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]The skies are blue because they are,
It’s light reflected from our star. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]It has to be that way. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Except for when the sun shines pink[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]But that’s an anomaly do you not think? [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Well, I suppose it could be true
That it doesn’t necessarily have to be blue [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]The impressionists painted it many a hue [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt](But they are more arty than I, or than you). [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]And under the sea (the sea is so deep)
Could it hold other colours? Would that be deceit?
If below the surface which can only reflect
That which falls on it might we not detect
That our old friend the sea that protects you and me
And where life crawled from (just her part destiny)
A billion other colours might possibly glow
Given opportunities inappropriate to what you think you know? [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]So if rejected dog found a place in the sun, [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]And learns by kind voice not hide not to run, [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]With food in his bowl, and his fetters thrown [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Might he not too, show colours his own? [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]If unloved and unwanted he always looked grey, [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Years dreading the thoughts of another day. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Has he then no rights to show who he is [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Not to whimper or simper or try ever to please? [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]But a dog in his own right, not captive, not slave [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]With a billion more chances of life, to behave. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Can you not bear to see what was there? [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Hiding within him under that chair [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt](Trying so hard just not to be there [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Just serving, deserving so much better) [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]And if in dismay, you must run away
Right round the world so not to see, not to say
“Sorry, I was wrong”, who makes herself victim could it be you? [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Who casts herself out, and paints herself [/SIZE]blue.
