White ground, white sky, white world
NO, white is not the color I’m looking for
More like…grey…dull, murky grey
Dull grey, dulling my thoughts until it becomes
A white –wait no, grey–blank.
Yeah, even the sky is light grey, but it is still grey
It became a hiding place for the unseen sun;
A hiding place for the unseen sun
The dullness is everywhere; it cannot be escaped
Even killers need to see color, so they
Shed blood: let the grey world be their canvas.
Do you see that? The world has new international colors;
Grey and red; Grey and red, because
Green and blue were too good for you
Grey pollution chokes my lungs: I need my red inhaler
‘Cause didn’t you hear? Red is the color of life
Red liquid on the ground measures the amount of life– lost.
It’s snowing now. Now, snow is white;
100% pure in an imperfect world. No grey in there.
The snow was pure before it touched the ground
Yeah, the snow was pure before it touched the ground.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts in Bold Ink
PoetryDuring these teen years, I am at the door way between childhood and adulthood. As I take these baby steps, I don't ever want to leave behind pieces of me that I'm discovering, nor should I ever leave behind who I must always be. As I close the door...
