I try to catch his attention
He doesn't like it when I bother
But my needs aren't met
So I think of an alternative
If I speak, my voice shakes
If I talk, I am left in rambles
If I yell, my throat becomes hoarse
It is only when I whisper
That I realize I am truly helpless
And he happily gets his way again.
k.g
YOU ARE READING
colorless
PoetryIn this instant, I see it all so clearly; while colors are such a vivid asset in his book of pictures, I have realized that the reason I do not fit in this title is because I am simply devoid of color. I am c o l o r l e s s. I am nothing but slathe...
