Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mia Sep 2018
I never liked the color pink
It was too cheery for my taste
Yet here I had that flamingo drink
Not a drip or drop to waste

She wore it on her clothes
It was the color of her lips
It was shaded in her drugs
And on her fingertips
It was in the lights when she danced
And on the pole it grew
It was in her words when she glanced
Now I was pinkish too

They say one wears the brightest stars
When feeling like the moon
So many times I dreamed to ask
Yet it always seemed too soon

I could tell she guested hell
And filled it with pink glitter
I crushed it all with fairy gold
Not wanting to be bitter
I could tell that she was scared
But pride wouldn’t let her speak
She wouldn’t have her pink heart bared
Just left that in turned cheeks

She said, “Baby, let go,” with a wink
And that was when I knew
She was very pink
And I was very blue
sky Sep 2018
Your thoughts are like paint dripping off a canvas
Decorating the floor with your ideas
The reds and blues
A thousand hues
But one color always seems to be missing.

The museum is filled to the brim with your art
A rainbow of pain and love
An ocean of wonder
Every color you could come up with.
All but one.

You paint the sky and the moon
The stars and the forests
You draw out the sunsets and silhouettes
You’ve painted a galaxy.
But you think it’s incomplete.

You are my favorite artist.
I could stare at the pieces you create forever
And hope that I could be the color you need.
That one day,
You could paint me pink.
For J
Anya Sep 2018
Just a color
But,
Is it really?

In preschool it was fine
I liked what I liked
No one cared

In elementary school
It became
Girly
Yet, ironically
This made most of the girls
Like me
Tomboys
Stay away from it

And instead,
It became cool for a guy
To like it

In highschool
Girls don’t care
Guys don’t care
People like what they want

But,
Is that really how it is?

Somewhere, under the surface
Amongst sparkly pink nails
And dresses

Somehow,
It’s not a color anymore
...
But a symbol
Thera Lance Sep 2018
Pink bubbles burst
In a strawberry pop
Underneath the sharp shade of the green leaves of her oak.

Fingers twirl blade
After blade in hand,
Until her nails blend with the grass.

Alone, she watches heat,
Swirl in ocean waves across the road.
Someone might come by tomorrow.
Shofi Ahmed Sep 2018
One step up cloud we touch
Rainbow is close let’s go for the sky
Let’s do it now don’t delay
It’s time for a butterfly dance!

Rose is ours with a handful of earth
Tickled pink flower gives a smile.
Banish the morning blues away
down the feet the floor is ours.
It’s all clear written in the stars
Now is the time for a butterfly dance!

Be it in the day or in the night
Bask in the moonlight or in the sun
it’s not snowed under the seven seas
nor is tucked away up on the sky.
Still on the ground, the floor is ours
and it's time for a butterfly dance.

With the green we grow the river we follow
Left, right, east and west every way
it flows, open to all directions on its way
The world is open worldwide!
But what if in the midst is missing an eye?
The show is on with the hidden card
Let’s get it done it’s time for a butterfly dance!
Vikram sikki Sep 2018
What’s opposite of a teacher

I have thanked them all
For what I am
But wait master Ji
What about the glass half empty

No!
No credits to thee
For the ignorant, indignant,
insolent -me
For indecisive, irrational -me

For teaching the logic of convenience
Over the struggle and friction
then enabling to veneer the meekness
with vainglorious diction

“Sit  down” for “How?”
“Shut up” for “ Why??”
You didn’t even,
ever let me Try!
Branded the doubt as foolery
and ensured that my mind
be all but free
Yes, all but
Free!!

Contouring my thoughts
with that of someone else’s
Delineating the world
of abstracts into absolutes
Befouling the beauty of randomness
by the confines of routine

So why
Yes - Why
I dare to ask
On this day ‘ O Teacher’,
you stand so tall
All in all you’re just
Another brick in the wall.
Inspired floyd
the sun
leaves the earth
with bright red,

preceding seemingly endless darkness.

only to return
with splashes of
pink and orange

giving rise to yet another beautiful day.

- v. m
your favorite colour is back after a few months of nothingness
Ron Gavalik Jul 2018
At this sushi joint,
she searched for the words
to describe her dinner.
‘It's heaven,’ she said, ‘Yes, heaven.’
Call me a simpleton, but divinity
on Earth is the sweet tinge of bourbon,
the smoke of an acid 60 gauge
that rolls over the tongue,
and the music of Pink Floyd
with the lights off.

-Ron Gavalik
Hit Patreon. No, I’m not kidding. Patreon.com/rongavalik
frankie Jul 2018
you glance at me
the look you give is enough to propel me into an amnesia that allows me to forget every ounce of pain you ever inflicted upon me
a bouquet of pink roses is handed to me
as if you’re asking me to ***** my hands on the thorns as i pick the petals, wondering if i’ll ever land on he loves me
a haze casted over my eyes
the rose tinted curse, everything seems to be blissfully nice
cait-cait Jul 2018
death is a tiny girl in pink —
with yellow hair
                          and stick legs -

coming out at twilight , she
knocks
on your door with her claws in a fist
                                and
smiles wide at you
from the
dark.
          .
            .

a wolf in sheeps hide ,
but
she is only
a
sheep
          (not even)

and
she wants to hold your hand .
.
I’ve been playing a lot of love Nikki recently which helped develop this but it was really inspired by another poem I read where they described death as a little girl who listens to the world from underneath the ground
Next page