My little white house
The panels are peeling
But the grass grows green
The red brightness outside is not of me
The red confuses everyone who visits
They ask questions I can't answer
Because there is no answer
I feel green
I feel pink
But that brightness outside continues red
Whether I want it to or not
YOU ARE READING
Lyrical Poems
PoetryThese poems aren't lyrical, not all of them. It's a pun. My name is Lyric. I wrote a lot of poetry in 2015, and I put it here. I can't seem to write poetry, but I occasionally find old ones lying around. Thank you for reading.
