[A prelude to a small collection I’m working on.]
What colour are you?
Are you red? Are you blue?
The first for your lust,
the second for insight.
You could be vivid.
Do you fancy yourself a purple shade
or the brown and green the earth made?
Upholding spiritual roles of your own
or being that which forever grows.
You could live as the world.
Is it a smoldering orange within you
or a yellow, illuminating all you deem true?
You’re the comforting warmth.
You’re the beacon for the lost.
You could be our safety.
With all your traits, precious spectrum of self,
you never thought it would be hell
to call him grey. Now, he is cold,
ash and dust. He is the shade of old.
He is the graphite residue of cheap words
and cheapest verse.