The Shade of Honesty

Little Lucy was only four when a miracle struck her good.
“I can see it!” she proclaimed,
“I can see the truth of all colors.”
While her mother guzzled down the bottle of what she called her medicine to life
“And that Brown,”
Little Lucy whispered pointing to the liquid thrusting down her mother’s throat,
“isn’t as reliable as it feels.”
Wandering to the adjacent room, her luck arose again.
“I can see it!” she exclaimed,
“I can see the truth of all colors.”
While her father scrubbed at the lipstick stains on his shirt
“And that Pink,”
Little Lucy whispered pointing to the lip outline tritely placed on his collar,
“isn’t as loving as it feels.”
She made her way outside where she relished the happy glow of the Yellow sun being cradled in the trusting arms of the wide Blue sky.
The bang of her neighbor’s door caught her attention.
“I can see it!”, she exclaimed,
“I can see the truth of all colors.”
While her neighbor wiped the blood from his knuckles and ignored the weeping pouring from the open window nearby.
“And that Red,”
Little Lucy whispered pointing towards his oozing wound,
“isn’t as courageous as it feels.”
And little Lucy skipped away, admiring each color all the while.