Chameleon

Walking through time, I practice my browns.
I can do brown.
200 shades.
Once in a while, a long while, I catch a glimpse of color.
Purple, scarlet, a blinding blue;
I flash in return, too brightly,
Out of place against the brown.
Oh, to be in the rainforest,
To blend with the trumpeting flowers,
The lush greens, the flowing rivers of
    azure,
The blooms of brazen yellow and red.
Or to proudly walk in front of a Picasso, a Van Gogh, a Monet -
Colors surrounding me, testing me with their brilliance.
Then you would see me shine.