The palette has lost its colour,
that once had shone its best.
The dancer only dares to move,
in none but the plainest of dress.
Photography in black and white,
is accepted as the norm -
only to be attempted at night,
and never in the warm.
The artist shunned;
the ignorant embraced,
numbers now become their fund.
And to an outsider it seems
that they must believe -
that there is no colour, in the Universe.
