What is blue?
They say it’s the colour of the sky
But I never saw it, for I am colourblind.
And then you came along, covering my sky with your compassion
The wisdom of your words, the comfort of your embrace
They say the say the sky watches over the world
But the one watching over my world, is you
I can now see the colour blue.

What is green?
They say it’s the colour of the forest
But I never saw it, for I am colourblind.
And then you came along, bringing out sides of me I didn’t know I had
Just as the forest harbours all forms of life
You brought out all forms of mine
The child, the man, and all things in me unseen
I now see the colour green.

What is red?
They say it’s the colour of a rose.
But I never saw it, for I am colourblind.
And then you came along, touching your soft lips to mine
The tenderness, the electricity, the passion you conveyed
Ran through my lips, my veins, all the way to my core
Your eyes said the rest, everything that was unsaid
I now see the colour red.

What is grey?
They say it is the colour of a rainy day.
Wait, this looks familiar, for I am colourblind!
Ah, the clouds, the drops, the world I’ve always known
But why is it so different, what are these colourful dashes in the way?
Have I always felt so much, did my smile always stay?
No, I see red, I see green, and I see blue
I now see the colour of you.

They were a common or garden,
run-of-the-mill variety
of right weird bleeders.
Individually, nothing I'd not seen before.
But oh boy, together -
it was like the circus had passed through and their apprentice scheme had got left behind.
Mind you,
you could see what they were attempting,
and give them a few years
I'm sure they would figure out a style
and colour scheme
that worked.
For now,
well like I say
- right weird bleeders.

Purple is your voice,
Soft as running fingers through groves of lavender—
Gentle on my ears.
Pink is your favourite,
Ironic with your wardrobe being a black hole
As you've called your beautiful mind.
Though it shows,
Your soft giggles
And the heartwarming way you talk to yourself
As you write.
White is our curious relationship,
Occasional exchange of calls online
And open to more.
Like the canvas you paint on.

I'd like to be close.
As my mind is too,
A black hole.
I hope you find curiousity there
As I do find in yours—
Because darkness is an unusual thing
Which pushes people away,
Yet draws them in.
Black are the shadows which follow us,
Darkest in the day,
And hidden in the night.

Yet there lies solace
In the lavender fields.

Like you I too was a colour,
A colour nobody liked,
A colour nobody wanted.
I sat alone at my desk,
I sat alone in the school canteen,
I had my break alone,
I walked home alone.
But,I had faith and hope,
One day somebody would come along,
Need someone like me,
An unwanted colour,
To complete her/his beautiful painting.
My hope became a reality,
A new boy came to school,
He was smart, cool and rich,
Girls swooned over him,
But,he chose me over others.

The sun was so close to
the fingertips of the earth mother
while the rose bloomed so bright
the first morning the sun rose on the earth.
The sun spaced up high up to the blue sky
so the colour of the rose may not wither.

The mother Fathima smiled even brighter
upon the rose, the sun draws back every sunrise
is ever closer till to date a colour never withers!

He is as hopeless as flying a kite made of clouds.
Now, some may say that that was impossible, improbable.
Some may even call it magical.
He did not see it that way.

In his eyes, he was as useful as a fraying rope.
Always on the edge of breaking,
Unstable.

His chest felt empty,
As if the dust left from his shattered heart had finally blown away.
The only thing there was his ribcage,
Trapping lungs that barely worked.

He believed he was hopeless.

To her, that was not the case.

She took his soul and painted grey and blue skies,
And used her own soul to glue him back together.

She flew her cloud kite proudly through the sky,
Doing tricks and running with it,
Smiling the whole time.

He is as hopeless as flying a kite made of clouds.

He is not hopeless.