Gamble with the Colours of Life

Blue is the colour of her eyes, the winter cool breeze. Icicles in the heart, pillars in the skin, we hide the suffering we are in.

Blue is the colour of his eyes, a smile that fills the space between nose and chin. Constant emotions stapled to the face with seeming ease.

Black is the shade of her dreams, the shade of her nails and the funeral service. “Tell me darling what is the purpose? What is this disguise you wrap yourself in?”

Black is the shade of his suit, the shadow over his life, he just wants to feel a win. “One more time, then I promise to stop!”

So off he goes to roll the dice.

Some live for the diamonds, clubs and the flashing lights and of course they bleed gold. That girl on the street, she goes on because she has the heart, and she bleeds red. While few take their odds to make a start and those ill-fated long to be dead. The coin has its grips on you, and it takes ahold.

Green is the colour of this disease, the green-eyed monster and the money hungry ways. Kings and Queens tumble all around, surrender or lose it all. What you do now is your call. Yellow and Silver intertwine as we force our sleep with the moon and rise with the sun.

Look at the flames, they burn orange and puncture my eye. “Look what you have done! We told you to stop!”.

We breathe in the gray, the past and future fade away, earth blackens and then we drop. Spirits depart and away they fly.

He had on those rose coloured glasses, and with that the ideal that things will get better on the next turns. “You need to work hard for the things you want in life,” somehow he forgot that along the railroads to fortune. The time passes on, but he is nowhere to be seen, hours transition from morning to noon. There is the distant ringing, but he cannot get to the phone because he is off losing all that he earns.

Rose is the colour we gloss over the world to hide our loses and fears. Violet is the colour of the bruises left on our soul. Charcoal is the colour of the fuel to feed the fire…the coal. See what this addiction has cost you, all the unshed tears.

There is an empty space in your life, what were you trying to fill? A young man’s dream and a woman’s passion for reaching the top. Come crashing down in a puddle to be cleaned with a bucket and mop. Brown is the colour of mysteries buried 6 feet deep, “What are the secrets you refuse to spill?”

All this time you just wanted to see the gold at the end of a rainbow. You wanted to be someone you could be proud to show to the world. You became frozen and inward you curled. All this time the rainbow was right in front of you, but you couldn’t see it over the piled, heavy snow.

Do not build your casket, do not dig into the void. Do not feel destroyed. Do not gamble with your children or wife. Do not gamble with the colours of life.

White is the tint is which we heal, the glue to put the pieces back together again. Falling from grace and managing to stand on our feet. The beauty and difficulty all in one, white is the milk from the teat. We are imperfect and we have made mistakes, but what matters is how we build and learn from pain.

Shimica Leng, 2021