The color of a fire engine as it races to save your home and all your precious possessions. I am more vibrant than a crimson maple leaf in autumn. The maroon of the Texas A & M Aggie's is pallid in contract to my brilliance. your Mom's ruby ring could not hold a candle to my brightness. The scarlet letter "A" on Hester Prynee's gown pales in comparison. I can outshine the juiciest cherry or the most succulent Red Delicious apple. Claret, Burgundy or even Merlot wine dims in my vivid glow. My child's birthstone, the garnet, is feeble as I stand in all my glory. I am the shade of blood when you nick yourself while shaving. The tint you see in your mind's eye as you become angry. The hue of ink in the final column when you realize your budget isn't quite adding up. The blush on your checks when you comprehend the cute butcher is flirting with you. The dye of your hair when you realize your hairdresser made a miscalculation in mixing her potion as she slowly turns you toward the mirror, fear in her eyes. The tint of your bloodshot eyes after an evening out on the town when you drank too much of the aforementioned Claret, Burgundy or Merlot wine because your hairdresser so thoroughly made a mess of your curls. The perfect hue of hat to wear on said flaming tresses to hide the blunder made by stylist you would NEVER see again.
Yes, I am red!
Yes, I am red!
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