Who am I?

Purple,

The colour of Queens,

A long lost ebony.

Majestic at its disposal,

And as mysterious as a sphinx.

Loyalty, Nobility,

Dignity, Creativity

Luxury, Power.

All that I hold dear

Inside a heart

scarred of that of a warrior.

A twin to purple.

She peers into the mirror.

Standing before her,

A girl she barely recognizes.

She is confused...shattered.

Tears glistening in her eyes as they stream down.

Where was that smile she gleamed at everyone around her?

The outside world looks at her with disgust.

They mock her, humiliate her.

Their harsh remarks,

like icicles piercing through the heart.

Oh the fragile heart

It has scarred,

It has bled,

It has cried,

It has ached,

It was far from perfect.

However,

It has not yet broken.

It remained strong,

Like a bull’s head ready to throng.

Inside of her is a parade,

Hosted by the devil himself.

Emotions flutter inside of her,

Chaotic and mesmerizing.

They were like the beasts of war.

Like a circus,

Entertainment for her bullies

At every sight they look.

They comfortably seat around

While they watch her slowly crumble to the ground.

The sorrow remains,

It refuses to die,

Heavy with pain.

They say “All the world's a stage, and all the men and women are merely players.”

And it seems as though it’s true.

Who could deny,

It’s a warzone?

She finds peace in quietness.

One of the many things I adore about purple.

It embodies peace and quietness.

Purple is not just a color,

She’s a feeling, a friend.

It’s as though purple has arms of her own,

She extends her arms towards me

And I gladly confide in her presence.

I make myself comfortable in her console,

As she provides me with the most blissful harmonies flowing through her lips.

I feel safe in her arms.

She is quietness without loneliness.

The rhythms drift slow and sweet.

She soothes me with such care and softness.

Timeless melodies,

As I loll myslef to sleep.

In my dreams,

I walk on a bridge to the past,

The gifts of winter,

The road to the future.

Come of age,

I reclaim my past,

Windows into the mind,

I weave a future from a tangled past.

Celebrating my new identity,

As I wake up to a brand new start.

Scattered powder-puff clouds above my head,

As the soaring sun welcomes me into its reign.

Once again, I walk up to the mirror

And see purple upon me.

But this time, I celebrate her.

Because she is me.

Purple is such a unique color.

And I always find myself relating with her.

I am mysterious, like Purple.

She doesn’t open up herself to the world upon her.

However,

Looking closely,

You can see she is more beautiful than she seems.

Her laughter is like honey dancing around the bees.

I hope to wake up everyday,

knowing how beautiful I am to those who hold me dear.

I am also loyal, like Purple.

Shy, like Purple.

Majestic, like Purple.

A friend, like Purple.

I am Purple.