I have a tendency
To seek out a pattern
Whether behavior, objects or other
I used to look at people
And wonder what their color was
if I could love them for who they portrayed
I know what it is like to love
An indigo, a plain crayon blue, a changing green
and a rather lightheaded fuchsia
But I wonder if, like many things I feel deeply for
Are a reflection of me, of the phases I'm in
I wear green as I walk towards the next one
I enjoyed the depth and meaning of indigo
They seemed to have a set way of them
Youthful minds often over look this color too
My plain crayon blue still makes me blush
My very first crush, as innocent
While as meaningless as one's should be
The deepest velvet emerald green
Tasted like they were made of pistachios
While being allergic to tree nuts
There's a time in one's life
Where we consider bold colors like fuchsia
Enjoy it from a far and wide distance
I'm not sure what my next color will be
I feel I have tales to tell, as old as time
and lessons as often as finding a sign
- Peacock green
"Writing feels better than speaking"
The pictures I used in this book are not mine. Credits to the respective owners...
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