The colors of the rainbow
that you and I do see
Do not have the color grey
How is this to be ?
Mornings cast a grey thick mist
upon the cloudy mind
When the buzzing alarm clock
that your ears do find .
Grey is what the thoughts are
When we can't quit think straight
It is not a clear blue signal
That keep you wide awake ,
Grey is what the heart does feel
When that presence drifts away
May be human maybe not
It matters zero anyway ,
Grey is what our skin turns
when age comes marching in
clammy to the human touch
rotting from within .
Grey is what the eyeballs turn
the colour turns to dust
I'm not sure about genital's
I have herd that they do rust
grey is what the forecast is
when bad weathers on the way
even if you love the rain
It the best time
I've found to prey
Grey is not a colour
but a mixture of a base
More like pure magic
as it looks like it might taste
grey is always coming
not like the colour red
grey is grey like you are you
and that's the story read .
About the Creator
Michael Boulatsakos
I am a earth alien that writes ,draws and struggles with all the same issues every other earth alien does .I write about my life and how my mental issues effect the way I see it .I have Bipolar2
Keep reading
More stories from Michael Boulatsakos and writers in Poets and other communities.
No Plus One
It's nearly one AM and I just got back from my third wedding of the four in this last month alone, and I have always been alone. I hide behind my camera to pretend to be useful, hide behind a safety net of skill set. So I do not have to confront the loneliness that is sleeping alone when everyone else seems to have a partner to crawl into bed with. I love the time spent with those who decided I was worth the 30-plus dollars per plate they decided to spend on me, and I do not need to have a partner on these occasions, but it would be nice to have someone notice, me. See when I am in the corner because they know I need time to recharge and to kiss me on the head until the time has come to leave. Maybe that's the problem about being a professional storyteller, I dream of something that isn't meant for me.
By Rilee Arey8 days ago in Confessions
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