My Dichromatic Deficiency

Couscous wrote a poem this morning (there may have been a ghost writer involved as well…)

I can’t see in colour,
But you know, when I’m blue:
You stroke and cuddle me
and make me feel brand new.

When I’m red with anger,
and I go slightly mad,
You make my crate tidy,
Even when I’ve been quite bad

But best of all is night,
When I’m no more a grouch,
You let me snooze between
you, prostrate on the couch

I can’t see in colour,
It’s all just shades of gray,
But you make up for that
With kindness, every day.

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