It might be colourful;
Bloom.
Pretty for the eyes,
pretty as it lies —
what was inside.

It might be hurtful;
Proof.
When there’s love for you,
and there’s a heart beating too —
inside the loof.

It might not be you;
Truth.
Never be the time,
never be the one —
ready to run.

And she’ll run from the sun,
though she wished for it to shine.
Though she wants it to be the light,
as she needs it to lit her mind.
But she’ll run from the sun,
from being the one for you, son.

—n.y