"Colours" by Donovan.                         
“Colors” by a False Poet.

Yellow is the color of my true love's hair    
sun dapples her gold shadings
In the mornin', when we rise                        
sun searching for the truest color
in the mornin', when we rise                      
peaking, she’s peeking, we waking, uprising
That's the time, that's the time.                  
her best time, sleepy doe eyed, all yellow,
I love the best                                                
bangs tickling eyes, I write of sun sparks

Blue's the color of the sky                          
blue is the primary, the selected color,
In the mornin', when we rise                        
that’s chosen to be a lovers greeting,
In the mornin', when we rise
a cloudy white pastel of blue,
That's the time, that's the time
that’s the days first part, our best parting
I love the best

Green's the color of the sparklin' corn
green Granny Smith apples, ****
In the mornin', when we rise
our mouths pucker, drool, chin juices
In the mornin', when we rise
that’s the days first part, a best parting
That's the time, that's the time
that’s the days first part, a best joining
I love the best

Mellow is the feelin' that I get
mellow is with me, all de day
When I see her, mm hmm
seeing her first eye blinking smile
When I see her, uh huh
the feeling infused, all de day,
That's the time, that's the time
she grants me loves freedom
I love the best

Freedom is a word I rarely use
except when I look upon her
Without thinkin', mm hmm
with knowing, full complete
Without thinkin', uh huh
with knowing, fully, completely
Of the time, of the time
of every time our morning glances meet
When I've been loved

Colours blur right before my eyes.
I can finally see through these lies.
Am I dying? No. It can’t be.
All I ever wanted was to be free.

Is this my fate? To be like this?
To be unloved? To not be missed?
To be the way that I am right now,
Isn’t good. I need to change, but how?

Changing the way I look and feel.
So that nothing will ever be real.
Change the way I talk to others.
Change the way I see the colours.

See the colours in a new light.
See the ways I can win the fight.
See the colours as others do.
See everything as lies rather than true.

Take away the colours of honesty.
Take away the things that bleed.
Take away the joy of our lives.
To make us sharp just like knifes.

"Well, if my parents aren't gonna let me wear a suit to the dance, I'll wear the most extra dress of the whole year."

"What if you wear a dress with the trans colours?"

"Y e s"

Stain glasses windows
In a beautiful church
Has all the colors
Red
Orange
Yellow
Green
Blue
Purple
Violet
Pink
This is why I
Only went to church
To see the Colours.

Colorful

He didn't know they cared.
His lost self is drowning.
Alone in the world he dared,
To look at it all frowning.

He felt like a horse in the water
looking at the light.
He was never seen by his mother.
Gave up because of the fright.

For all this time he was alone.
No one wanted to see him cry.
For all the failures he saw his own.
And wished the world goodbye.

Gulped into a wirlpool of menkind.
Dark, pitchblack at the end of the light.
Nothing he could ever find.
Nothing could make him fight, at least not with all his might.

His idols are weak, and chose to walk on highways.
His family never blinked an eye.
No one could count all those days.
Were he kept asking himself why.

He was a wrong soul in his own life.
He did not belong in this fase.
Lied who he was and took the dive.
As if he was the only one in his race.

Those who follow me will die, he said.
So I will live on my own from now.
But life is not living while dead.
And he greeted his crowd with a bow.

His colours match mine.
That is what scared me the most.
Only I pretend to be fine.
While he saw more and overdosed.

What colour is it, that tangled our lifelines?
Will I meet my colour soon?
I hope it's bright, I hope it shines.
I hope it is the blue of the moon.

Or the pink of a lily.
The yellow of a bumblebee
Oh no, don't look at it silly.
It's not just the colours you see.

Whatever colour it is, it's not shown by the mirror.
We will never see what we carry.
All we will ever see is error.
We hate dispair, yet discard the merry.

He met the horse and the kid.
He was swimming in his own memory.
The thick liquid paint stuck on the lid.
He never even got to say sorry.

Let's paint the world with you and me.
Family, friends, that girl across the street
And for the first time, it's his colour I see.
My colour gave me the chance to meet.

And suddenly, everyone cared
All eyes were fixed on him.
Aknowledged what he had beared.
Everything changed on a whim.

The happy feeling of sorrow.
The delight of burning alive.
Because there's always tomorrow.
It's never too late to strive.

And with pain he said the kid goodbye.
He took the horse along.
He never again doubted why.
Suddenly falling didn't feel wrong.

For he fell and I fell.
And we both stood up on our feet.
We're all good and well.
Ready to start sketching on a new sheet.

What colour is it I wear.
Is it bright and prone?
I claim to have much to bear.
But I was never really alone.

Leaves shed
as she leaves behind
Those worn old faces and troubled minds
to a distant land
Her brave heart is fuelled by freedom

I walk alone
over graves gold and red
Rustle and crunch! complain the dead
With a grimace,
I bid welcome to my favourite season

The northwest breeze
shares a smoke with me
As I solicit the shade of a leafless tree
The dust gathers
around my feet, around my life uneven

A golden sky
when the red sun sets
A cloud floats by that resembles her face
with the colours
that make Autumn, to me, so appealing