Poem: Blobs

What if we were all just blobs of color

Instead of skin and hair and hands and feet

Perhaps the purples would be brooding and poetic

And the pastels would be sweet

And the hot heads would be fiery red

And the blues all nice and neat

Peachy yellow blobs with fiery centers

And citron lavender blobs with speckles of grey

Lovely little creatures

They have so much more to say

When you aren’t distracted by facial features

Perhaps that’s why we get along so well

You and I

Because we are just blobs after all

Quite similar in blob proportions and color swirls

Just blobbing through this awkward little world

On a similar frequency

Your primary colors are secondary to none

Perhaps this is why finger painting sounds so fun