I see it everywhere,
thousands of times a day.
It comes and goes in many different ways.
It can form a picture,
it can revive dead thoughts.
It's something given freely,
never truly needing to be bought.
Everything sees at least one form of it.
Even if it's just a little bit.
It can dictate feelings, perspectives, and words.
It's always demanding that it be heard.
We all wear it, own it, and know it so well.
It's extroverted; always out of its shell.
We all have a favourite or two,
there's one made just for me and just for you.
Colour shines in everyone, shines forever, too.
YOU ARE READING
Sure, Thanks, I am Fine
PoetryDepression Anxiety Insomnia Heartbreak Unloved Crazy Scared Joyful Happy Bullied Everything listed here is something I've either felt or gone through. As have many others. But is it easy to say out loud? No, it never is.
