Orange, yellow, and red
Swirled like a painter mixing his colors
The brush strokes, light, heavy, loud
A pallet of only the brightest colors
Distracting him from the grip of life
For he is only a boy, and growing up is the least of his concerns
Blue, white, and black
Stars speckle the sky, each one larger than the last
Brush strokes of only the calmest colors
Each stroke sends a new sense of peace to his heart
For at his age, he’s no longer a boy, but a man yearning for his youth
Red and black, when he’s alone
For those are the only colors he sees anymore
A new sense of reality since the old one is no longer available to him
Each stroke sends a new worry to his head
A new voice, a new reality
For now, he’s no longer a boy, yet a man
Yearning for the days he ran from.
Vincent
More by meandpaul
-
Fear of the heart
i'm afraid of tomorrow
as it creeps slowly along
like snail it moves
leaving a trail of past
failures and mistakes
edging closer and closer -
Connecticut
the room smelled sweet
sweetness a mix between
the sterile and calm
a sweet temptation just out of my reach
-
Yesterday
yesterday
to you i was nine years old
with a black hurley hat
that never left my head
the hat that you would take
and try to hold it far above
my reach knowing i could never get it
Comments
Brilliant message, to live in the moment and appreciate what you have while you have it; Time comes for us all, after all! The references to the changing landscape -- the leaves, the night sky -- also help express this idea well.
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