When the warmth of blood

flushes cheeks, dulled

by palid complexions,

I wonder if it represents something more,

and that a passionate red was always so,

ruthless, and that instead, this softer,

caring pigment says much about a soul,

and to be like it, reflects natural warmth,

does it not?

White 

So innocent and pure 

All I yearn for 

Deprived of 

Sadness And hardship 

White is my

Polar opposite 

So close but so far 

Barely out of reach 

So I'll just dream 

Of everything 

I want to be