The white turns black
into an alley cat,
with claws pointing and spreading
waiting to attack.

There is no green.
The yellow turns blue
into a discarded worn shoe,
the hobos wear
prancing the streets
selling their wares.

There is no purple.
The red and blue
run in circles.
The red ahead.
The blue behind.
Not the two shall
walk the line.

There is no pink
The red bleeds through,
staining the white
a crimson hue.