PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

All my colors are running, 
Spilling as I go, bleeding onto
Everything I touch. I leave
A trail of cold hues but soon
My warmth will start to spill
Too, and when that run drys

All that will be left is blank
White and over powering black.
There won’t be any blue in
My eyes, any red in my cheeks.
All I’ll see will be shades of
Gray, that haunt colorless dreams.

I’ll scream at a colorless sky,
I’ll walk on colorless grass, 
I’ll touch colorless people, 
I’ll hear colorless music,
And we’ll talk of days
When rainbows ran rampant.