A pocket full of doom
That’s all he was to me
She’d think in tones
Shades of greys and red
Once I believed in tones as well
Ochres, ceruleans, and emeralds
These were the contributions
Of auras and earthen energies
Paradigms creating seismic shifts
Have downsized our living arrangements
However
Everything comes around, these days more often than not
She thought as he perused her figure and discarded her clarity
For want of the value in it
Her figure
Unhinged
She walked away in colors of
Peace that dripped in tones of an inappropriate and false approximate weighing of values
He let it slide as she did
To the floor
For a moment the colors bled bleak
She thought of him in colors and shades of hope
(I know I know man loves woman and girl loves boy but sometimes they do)
More often than not
She let herself believe in love
For a moment in brilliant hues
A poem. A poet. Of sorts.
The colors shifted shades and shapes
Dreams
Blue and grays with some reds and yellows thrown in
Hope
In lighters shades with purples turning lilac and blues into ceruleans and greens into limes
Brilliance and Consummations
Red and scarlets and burgandy complimented by shades of black and dark grey, all colors saturated real and true
Realisms and altruisms come in
All colors shapes shifts and shades
To some a mutiny of thoughts
To her?
Something to be construed.
About the Creator
Melissa Eaves
I am an freelance writer. I love the written word and the poetry of my soul is expressed by mastery of it.
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Comments (1)
Beautifully written.