I know why we all don’t wear colours
Why we choose black unrelieved, or white
They offer us some small escape
From the cold and harsh truth of the light.
The hint of a pink can oppress us
An orange, blue, yellow or green
That pulsating deep crimson of blood
Remind us they cannot be seen.
Every smile, every laugh, hides a tear
You’re so strong, they’re so proud, it’s all fake
Mem’ries come crashing around you
Some days there’s no more you can take.
Just give us a cold steely grey
Black, or smudgy pearl creams
The indistinct hazy dull shades
That slip and slide in our dreams.
Then perhaps we can manage to live
On the edge of the edge of our lives
And perhaps some day we can give
A bit more than our smiles and our sighs.
About the Creator
Rohini Sunderam
Rohini Sunderam, a Canadian of Indian origin who calls both Halifax, NS and Bahrain, home, is a semi-retired advertising copywriter. Her stories and poems have appeared in several international anthologies and online magazines.
Keep reading
More stories from Rohini Sunderam and writers in Poets and other communities.
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.