Painted Skies red and purple,
Shaded light to dark,
As I listen to it's remark,
Seeing it make a circle.
The trunk of the car,
Is superior by far,
To look and stare at the incoming stars.
Time flies,
Stars die,
Stars rebirth.
One day, it was gray,
Not even one sunset ray,
How sad I was.
But then it was orange,
O how beautiful!
Maybe it's the way I look at it,
Do my feelings?
My mood?
Affect it so dearly?
YOU ARE READING
Short Poem: Painted Skies
PoetryThis poem is about me watching as my feelings can change, but fortunately how fast they can change. It's a reminder I'm human.
