That's what you are.
Gone. Your name is
disappearing day by
day from my mind.
It has been years.
Adelina and Theo
saw your grave, we decorated
it with different colors, hoping
that the colors will shoo away
any speck of sadness you left
behind.
But there are moments,
where they look at me,
with their wide and soulful
eyes and ask:
"Daddy, where's mommy?"
They want to know where
you are.
I want to know too.
YOU ARE READING
shades of red
Poetrywhen you have too many thorns, all you can do is paint them in red, because, maybe then, they will look like petals [sequel to shades of blue]
