Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2015
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Why am I,
Why am I sighing?

Old bowls empty of cereal,
Curtains made of see-through material.
Why am I,
Why am I crying?

Red lives, No Technicolour.
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Why am I,
Why am I dying.

Just me and a cube in the corner,
A rooted tube of squalor.
Why am I,
Why am I not flying.

Red lives, No Technicolour.
Red lives, No Technicolour.
Why am I here,
Why am I here lying.
Declan Mills
Written by
Declan Mills  Dublin
(Dublin)   
345
   Kelley A Vinal
Please log in to view and add comments on poems