City of Thoughts

It would have been a simpler poem
When purple met its sunlit shores
If thoughts were not still and stoned

It would have been a romance of kites
When winds were hiding in his wings
If he was a bird by birth

But he is not a poet 
And his ground was not stolen either
And he is round the roads together

Pale thoughts, Palette grained out
Canvas exist, Colors exit, Yes, they just exist
And he had exits in all corners, office, house, lanes

Green browns, Black Greys, White Reds,
Red Yellows, Blue Whites, Brown Yellows
They made his day full of blends
In between them, he and his thoughts
All at once, One for all