I have never been a fan of plain white walls.

It just feels wrong.

Acting as a main color when it should be an accent.

Pretending to be something it is not.

It is a stain that drowns instead of draws out.

Total lack of inspiration.

***

Where is the creativity?

All I see is a basic standard.

Devoid of personality and life.

Unfulfilled entirely.

Potential present but unused.

Seeing the absence that should not exist.

***

No, white walls are a true and sorrowful mirror.

Showing the missing along with imagination.

What might be along with what is not and might not ever be.

Please tell me that the walls will not remain white.

That there is more to what I see.

Fulfilled beyond imagination.

***

When I was little, I used to see a grand scene.

The most detailed forest or ocean scrawling my walls.

The night sky shining down from above.

In reality I was left staring at white walls and ceiling.

A far cry from my vision.

Though I have decorated my walls now, sometimes I see that scene still.