Red
The color I see when, yet again, a person of older generation has disrespected the youth
The emotion that rushes into my bloodstream when I hear words of ignorance and of pain
When the youth calls out the elder, the elder lashes out.
That's disrespectful!
I know better.
We are taught at a young age that we should respect those who have lived a longer life, but we can only accept orders given to us from those same people
When the youth asks ' doesn't respect go both ways? '
The elder shouts.
They protest and insist that until we are old, we have no say. No opinion, no voice nor any deserved respect.
Red pours into the mind, hurting the youth.
Crimson leaks into their sight,
Assaulting the fragile state of the heart.
Red is an ornate blade, slicing the beautiful state that is like a sort of satisfaction.
And then the colors evaporate
