I found my poem. Yet another clue that I need to get organized. So here goes.

Who am I but a spot

A spot of black
No redeeming quality
No shape.

A spot of gray
A look from a creator
Taking form.

A spot of blue
I feel His breath
the shape of hope.

A spot of purple
A King’s ransom
A standing life.

A spot of red
Death creates life
It shapes my soul.

A spot of white
Cleansing brings purity
I am taking on Forever!

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