The Wrong Color

I found the photo, years ago,

a party I had to attend.

I wore a shirt designed to show,

a message I meant to send.

The fabric seemed to shout its claim,

a color loud, I can't recall.

I thought it would ignite a flame,

but met instead a silent wall.

My face was set, a careful mask,

while what I wore just begged to speak.

An ill-conceived and foolish task,

that left me feeling rather weak.

That outfit’s plea, a desperate sound,

went wholly lost and never found.