Colourful

Why everything is colourful instead of what I feel inside.

Everything is colourful,

Which can be whole on its own,

Or made whole so that it can be sold.

You can tell in which category I belong,

And even if you can't, you will when you learn to be honest with your own.

My background which is me, reflecting the things I feel inside,

And always tell me nothing remains by your side.

I have sparkly eyes which people refer as a dream,

But is that really mine or just applied cream.

Trying to make me whole by dressing me up with a sparkling tiara flower,

Independently sprinkling its own beauty.

Because you don't even wanna know that beauty comes from inside

And not by standing with it by its side

I dare you to look what's inside of me,

But you can't because that is the thing only warrior can see. 

Now I will not ask who I am,

Because that is the thing only I can find.