When my hand reached
For that knife
I decided
To paint my life
I'd paint it blue
To show what's true
A sign of my preserved
Old sadness
I'd paint it white
To keep a light
That can chase
Away this madness
I'd paint it black
To take them back
The good days
And leave the bad instead
I would paint with all these colours
But the only colour that I have
Is red
YOU ARE READING
When they don't understand (poems)
Poetry"We're all in the same game,just different levels.Dealing with the same Hell,just different Devils"~Unknown So no matter what we're all the same in the sense that we have our own problems that we try hard to deal with.Remember,when they don't unders...
