What is it like?
I often question myself,
Printer blue all over,
And I just try to fit in.
People painted with bright colours,
And I am someone who pretends,
I can get along with the stars,
When all I am is darkness.
Why does it have to be this way?
Why can't everyone be the same?
Why do the colours have to be diffrent?
So much that I can't always pretend.
Sometime people notice the difference,
They don't point it out but express,
I can catch their gestures just too well,
Too ever forget that they thought thos things.
YOU ARE READING
Our Violet Walls
PoetryBook #1 in the 'Coloured After Party' Poetry Series. 'Coloured After Party' is my second poetry series after my debut one known as 'If Only Happiness...' When everyone leaves, the night gets lonely with every passing minute. Keeping us in dilemma of...
