How I wished I had a chance to see,
Someone that had a colour of their own.
Without wholely black or white,
But preferably a brightness of their souls.
How was that even possible,
When everyone is the same?
Either a black hiding white, or white hiding black.
The souls are no longer them- but a copy instead.
Even snowflakes were more interesting.
All in different patterns,
But fall in same destiny.
They melt all away,
But alas,
They was the one and only.
Maybe one day we should look at the mirrors,
And wonder why we became all the same.
And when you realise that for a fact,
Hey, you are dead!
YOU ARE READING
Depths. -POETRY-
PoetrySelf created quotes, poems. Some get a little too Long, too deep, too short. They are anyhow, words.
