Because it's 3 a.m., and my homework is done, and I'm just waiting to fall asleep, I wrote the poem that sprouted in my head during my shower. Here it is, fresh off the press and unedited:
Bigger people got there first,
Painting colors they liked best,
Splashing blobs from their own mess.
When I held my brush at last,
Several layers had been laid:
Yellow, green, and angry red.
Frantic, I despaired;...