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The world has gone dark that you can't really tell
Whether your eyes are shut or wide open
She slipped clumsily in a café
Looked all around her
from the corner of her eye
Felt all eyes upon her
Bit her lip
and flushed crimson
most disconcertedly.

He was sacked,
literally fired
Got down in the dumps
Was down and out
and was left feeling
blue so gloomily.


He gave her a blossomed rose
Blood rushed to her cheeks
She blushed a deep red
so very joyously.


She watched her rival from afar
Summed up her envy in reflex
and she turned green jealously.

It looked hale and hearty
Ooh the cherubic chubby cheeks
Baby looked in the pink
as it babbled away innocently.

She heard of a loved one's demise.
That was a shock indeed
She went white as a sheet
as she then wept so woefully.

She saw a teeny-weeny spider on her skirts
Talk of arachnids and phobias, yikes!
She turned a pale yellow in fright
as she screamed so fearfully.

He found his sweetheart
in another man's arms
Doubted his own charms
and his face went purple with rage
almost immediately.

He faced his lifelong enemy
Hate brimmed up in him
as his bitterness found a vent
He shot him a black glare
how very scornfully


Well, well, it might seem that the worst of all the human hues
are the melancholic depressing blues
But I think being green for jealousy
and the black of hate
top the list in deserving poohs.
Mind you these human pigmentation of emotions
are a matter of reflex
for you can't choose
which of the human hues
you'd like to wear, on party day
and which you'd rather not use.

https://youtu.be/VFInp0m0b4Y
The colours of our emotions, each stanza describes different emotions and the colours they are represented by in English.

https://youtu.be/VFInp0m0b4Y
Blessing or curse?
Spoken or verse?
Two pieces of a broken mind,
Searching for the power to find
What she knows is inside her,
The capability-
But in the end it comes
Down to ability,
And she hasn't found it yet-
Her brain is full of detailed worlds,
But how to draw them out?
Some may call it writer's block
But she has writer's drought.
It smells like
French toast
During the Renaissance

The taste of which
Leaves me starving
For perspective and humanity
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