Purple, purple, purple
Everything is purple
The flowers, his hair
The clothes he wore in my memories
Yellow, yellow, yellow
Or rather gold
He shone like gold
Even when it twas I who lit the sky
Gray, gray, gray
Colors the day
He had lived gloriously
But now he is gone, leaving me alone and dull
Black, black, black
Black with anger
Black with rage
Black is the sky because I am not okay
- A Greek Tragedy, D. S. Desmonds
YOU ARE READING
poetry; the book
Poetryi've been writing lots of poems lately, i've decided to publish them here. not all of it is angsty depressing stuff, so that's good.
