[bowl of oranges]

This is when a value is of no worth.

You shimmered in sepia tones,
in muddied yet golden scenes.
Where sharp cut figures exhaled laughter,
And you got caught amongst smiling peers.
That was when values were expected.

I'm vibrant upon a whittled park bench.
Where the grass still thrives,
in lushous green accents.
And flowers evoke the fullest spectra.
I'm examined in full blown colour print.

But i'll be alone, with silence for company.
Whilst friends fill bellys with liquor,
lungs with tar and themselves with immoralites.
This is when a value is of no worth.
No worth to society's blurry eyes.

Yes, i'm expected to inherit all my father has.
But it's never been tougher.

I'm examined in full blown colour print.