What's Wrong

Artist

she's painted with gold

and her eyes are silver

but something about her smile

makes my heart shiver

she talks in red

and walks like blue

but my mind has traveled

our time is overdue

she's green today

and yellow tomorrow

there's nothing left to feel

not even sorrow

that's why i love her

she's the orange in a meadow of black

and i can hear the people murmur

when the dear little artist plays