Old Man Anonymous
Sets up an easel, lifts a brush
But finds he has no paint.
Ah, no matter; this one
Gives him half a tube
Of Prussian Blue; that one
Gives him some ambiguous greens,
Blacks and yellows
Smeared on an old palatte;
The other, in his princely way,
Gives him thirty shades of white.
(Red, of course,
Can always be found)
And, if there's nothing else
I'm always willing to put on a hat
And pose for a portrait.
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