What's your price?

My mind is a dimly lit corridor.

I love the colors but I hate the damned war.

A light orange and sickly sweet purple splash upon my walls

As a kaleidoscopic dance paints in swirls the ceiling of my faults.

You can capitalize your worries

And scream at me your frustrations,

But the cards we are dealt hold true

Until you up the ante

By walking away.

Graham