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Mother of pearl...

this color makes me hurl.

A tainted yellow,

aged and mellow,

blends in the backgroud,

yet screams a silent sound.

It smells of an elderly home,

an alzheimers zone.

Here...nostalgic swirls swim in a pool,

and personalites take on a drastic duel.

A brain slideshow depicts images 

no color,

no shade of sepia,

nor black or white.

Its a shade only wise eyes can sight.

Eyes that once delivered an emotion,

a clever vile to the brain a potion.

Eyes that once fell upon love,

another pair led them to heaven above.

Eyes that once witnessed death,

they cried together watching the final breath.

Eyes that once carried a weight on their shoulders,

a massive load heavier then boulders.

Eyes that have made it this far,

they surpassed all the mental scars.

Eyes that now stare at that hue.

A tint that forces them to rue,

some days in their life,

where they felt strife,

or days that brought them a smile,

a feeling they haven't felt in awhile.

Those eyes now stare at the mother of pearl wall,

waiting on death's call.

They've heard it all and all before.

They are ready to shut their lids on this life's door.