I won't be posting my poetry here often, I'm not one to just share my stuff like that. But this one is pretty genuine, so why not. Say what you want about it, I don't really mind.
Colorless
Bronze boy, the days are long gone where I felt like I could confide in you. The ruby sunsets distracted me from what I was to become. Amethist baby.. grey was your color. Your view of life is distorted by your malicious ways towards others.
The orange sunrise was a waking call towards something greater and better and I some how lost the memo to wake up early, watch the yellow as it rose above the hills and the trees and me waiting for you to call, to write, to acknowledge my periwinkle existance beyond my selfless flaunting of trust and loyalty.
My fushia dance wasn't grand enough even though I worked so hard. Silver ways of breaking the habit have reminded me of who I was then, who my goldenself could be now.