Yellow

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Yellow,

I sat at the hill,
Thinking.
Yellow?
I can imagine,
Happiness, Sun,
Blooming fresh sunflowers.
Happiness?
How come if each time you pluck a petal, The flower cries for you.

What a pity,
You yourself trying to get rid off
everything.

Sun,
The sun horizons.
The fiery rays.
It burns your skin.
Slowly,
Burning every single melanin.
Ashes,
That is you.
Slowly being blown by the wind.

Κίτρινος

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