All the World's A Painting

All the world's a painting,
And all the men and women solely pigments;
Each a stroke of brilliance.
Each stroke unique,
And symbolizing a part of the earth.

Every fragment of the picture embracing a particular color,
Creating a diverse scene.
A wash of reds, yellows, and greens,
Blues, browns, and purples,
With hints of whites and blacks.

Every color expresses a different emotion:
Shades of red defining the bloodshed of war,
Hints of yellow showing intellect of the younger generation,
Stains of green hiding envy of what we can't be.

Even the intensity of blue speaks to us in the picture;
It's vocalization all of relaxation and clarity;
The tint of brown whispering to us of warmth, comfort,
And all that is dull;
While the blush of purple shows the royalty among us,
Ruling us to no end.

Last but not least,
Those whites,
And those blacks.
Each completely different,
Balancing everything out.
Yet can lead to the same thing,
A final look on life.
Sans color, sans life, and all that is good and bad.