I pick me,
I choose me,
I love me.
She looked outside
where it was
gray and dreary
about to rain
what a fitting day
for a girl
who was lost
in her own storm
and couldn't find her way
When we met, I was Blue,
Shaking, trembling, sobbing
I was the Pacific Ocean;
Cold and withdrawn.
You said hello, and I was Yellow.
A happy, carefree, summergirl.
Yellow as buttercups, as the sun
Warm and caring and healthy.
As I fell, I turned Orange
A warm and comforting love
A cosy couple, a mug of apple cider couple
And a pile of fallen leaves couple.
I turned Gray when winter came
And chased you away from me
I was cold and lifeless once more
But without me, you were also Gray
We came together a second time
And I was Red as the setting sun
Red as roses, Red as the blood in our veins
Red as the hearts that beat for one another once more.
Day Two of the 30-Day Poetry challenge. Prompt: Colour Personified
Shaken away within these sounding walls
The stars no longer shine and night falls
In this place time is endless
Once again I am completely restless
Tired, I am not
Simply trapped within this thought
This place remains unknown
But I feel so at home
Lack of emotion crowds this hollow room
This bed is my waking tomb
This ambience is as empty as this skin
The lights only growing dim
Fully immersed in this devastating calm
In failure, I must be a paragon
Everything is grey
In this infinite void I lay
Nothing exists beyond this
From waking life is there anything to miss ?
My voice is left unheard
Is it here I will discover my worth ?
August 15, 2019
Tired and twisted
broken and listless
another day in prison ****** me off.
Last night was Christmas, and I
miss my kids so much,
it feels like I've been shanked.
I sell my desserts for coffee;
my one luxury in the joint.
The complexion of my day is
gray, and lonely as a
tea bag in the ocean.
Everything is gray:
The mood, the soul, the yard, the heart
and the beat of the false dawn.
It's all tombstone gray.
Hate thickens the air.
And the light on the
horizon is a lie--razor wire sharp.
Igwang mga aldáw na mayò na talagang naglalaog sa isip ko, Masakiton magsurat ning maski ano. Piriton ko man mas naghahaloy asin mas magabat, garo nakagakod as sakuyang mga bitis sa daga. Kan nakanood akong magsurat, duman ko nadiskobre an ika-duwang harong sa laog kan sakuyang isip. "Libre man daa an mangarap" kaya sige lang ipikit mo an saimong mata asin hagadon gabos na pwede **** makuha. Pero bako digdi sa nadiskobre kong lugar, gabos na hahagadon mo pwede **** makuha mayong limitasyon pero igwang kapalit. Gabos igwang kapalit.
Sarong úban karibay sa gabos na kaipuhan, kagustohan, asin kaugmahan.
Igwang aldaw aldáw na mayò talagang naglalaog sa isip ko asin warâ naman an gabos na buhok ko.
—𝐔𝐛𝐚𝐧, a Bikol poetry.
Have you ever wonder what happens to your hair?
1. Uban is a gray hair