he walks out the door
I fall to the floor
dead weight lightens up
pours out another cup
his dirty work is done
he didn't want his son
and i made a mistake
took it off with a fake
now I'm paying the price
all consequences are vice.
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...
