I am...

In this poem, I try to convey the colours I am 'made of'. Life has battered me a bit, it's true, but I am made unique by the people around me, who love me, by the things I care about, and by my perceptions. We are all wonderfully different. This poem uses colour to tell you about who I am.

I hope you enjoy.

I am...

I am light pink.

A delicate colour, with a blush

Of fragile peonies and soft candles,

Easily destroyed

By the cruel winds of words

And thoughtless actions.

I am purple.

A deep, passionate hue

Of blueberry stained lips,

New tubes of paint,

Tart blackcurrant sweets,

And streaks across sunset skies.

I am green.

Ever changing under light:

Pure sunlight gives me fizzing energy,

Overcast days send me down

Into low feelings

And self-doubt.

I am silver.

A solid ring of loyalty, forged.

Made by words of love,

Acts of bravery, selflessness

And time to care.

Precious. Forever. Total.

I am orange.

The colour of laughter,

Of mischief, accomplishment and smiles.

A streak of fire

In a dark sky.

I am enough.

I am these colours.

I am whole,

But I can be easily made muddy

By careless words and inexperienced brushstrokes.

I need clear light,

Kind hands and light touches.

Deborah Robinson.