Black was the color of her messy locks
Blue was the color of her brilliant eyes
Purple was the color of the dress she wore
Those thoughts sending a tired smile to her dainty lips
For her face was now a palette of those colors
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Cries and Echoes
Poesía"The cries of my mind are nothing but mere echoes to oblivion."
Palette
Black was the color of her messy locks
Blue was the color of her brilliant eyes
Purple was the color of the dress she wore
Those thoughts sending a tired smile to her dainty lips
For her face was now a palette of those colors