Orange.
all I see is orange;
orange faces
orange freckles
orange glasses
orange books
orange flowers
orange curtains
orange sunrises.
Everything is orange.
Bright orange;
and it is beautiful.
Until I saw you.
You're red aroma,
stained my orange.
No.
Orange. Orange. Orange.
Everything must stay orange,
but your red bled through.
The orange faces twisted,
the orange freckles darkened,
the orange glasses cracked,
the orange books fell,
the orange flowers wilted;
but the orange curtains sweetened..
and yellow seeped through.
I stole a glance
between the orange curtains,
past my fingertips
I see the sun,
softening to yellow
and it's golden rays
blocked out your
venomous red.
I was leaving
your dumb red;
yellow,
was the next stop.
YOU ARE READING
Ｃｏｌｏｒ
PoetryYou were red. red red red red red you made me see red. all I saw was red. I'm sick of red. I want orange, and yellow, then green, and blue, some purple, I want the whole freaking rainbow.
