Why does he choose to call me Skittles?
If there is a reason, it seems so unclear.
Am I full of passion, love, and warmth,
Or am I a thorn that comes on a blood-red rose?
Am I the beauty found in a fading sunset,
Or am I temperamental like the hot, orange sun?
Am I bright and cheerful like a sunny day,
Or am I the sour taste from a yellow lemon?
Am I a realistic, down-to-earth girl,
Or the greed that comes with a green dollar bill?
Am I as serene and open-minded as the clear sky,
Or am I stormy and chaotic like an untamed, blue sea?
Am I the mysterious girl in his fantasy world,
Or moody and unpredictable like the purple, bitter grape?
Why does he choose to call me Skittles?
If there is a reason, it seems so unclear.