PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

He only paints in the colors of bruises

Because all that's real to him is pain

So the sky is the purply blue you get from a swift blow

The night is the gray black of a blackened eye

Earth is the yellow brown of fading contusions

And the irises he paints for his lover

Are the peculiar purple you get with blood beneath the skin

For inside of him rests a soul beaten black and blue

And his artwork constitutes a cry for help

That no one can see because it's just so pretty