Sunday, July 26, 2015

Spectrum: A Poem


Yellow has his cowards, shaking in their boots
Their jaundiced skin is slick with sweat
Green beckons to the envious 
and draws them in
With promises of power.
White has her snow, 
falling fresh upon the ground
She watches the dawn.
Black offers sanctuary to thieves 
and cloaks the whispers of the mad.
What do I have?
Nothing rhymes with me.

No comments:

Post a Comment