Author S. K. Nicholas

I’ve been wrapped in a sheet of white,

Since the day I arrived.

Bright,

So eerie white.

It gathers less peace and more of a sheen of sadness.

A river of madness,

That carries me like a flash flood.

Drops me from colourful skies, to a land of white sludge.

Dripping with a lack of colour,

The Overrated Dollar.
Yet, somewhere in this pell mell,

I have come to know the smell,

Steak and bacon and Maple syrup,

Away from Europe.

There’s a pale place of it’s own,

Right next to the Whispering pinecone.

From the window next to me,

This towns people holler,

”Hey, Colour!”,

And I drag myself out of bed,

Work until dead,

For a Loonie and another Dollar.