What more can you get from people that have given up on you

what more can you do if they still refuse to understand the things you're going through even if you tried so many ways, and used so many words to explain

what more can you hope for when you screams for help are seen as whinings of a small child

What more can they give you... except heartaches?

green
the colour of freedom
a whispered memory
a mother's touch

red
the colour of blood
needlessly spilled
a river in the streets

grey
the colour of despair
but a remnant
of the candle's flame

death
a colour of...
it must be a colour
the pallor painting the father's-

green
it seems lost
among heartache, loss
will the memory ever fade?

blue
the sky under which children play
will they again?
for the sky is grey

green*
the mother's nation
birthed of strife, breach
shining through