one day, you told me that people coloured sunsets.
they coloured it with the flames of their hearts,
the purples of the bruises they hide under their sleeves
and sometimes a patch of plain white to just to know they exist.
the sky wears its vibrant blue mask over the day,
fooling people into thinking that the sky's blue
is a lot different than the blue their hearts feel.
but as the clocks ticks and the sun sets down,
the sky walks home, tired of wearing its mask,
tired of pretending to be alright when it's not.
that's when its people welcome it with their colours.
no wonder sunsets feel so much like home to our
nomadic souls, which are drunk on wanderlust.
what is your colour on the sky? i asked you.
you said, it's the one which would feel so much like mine.
today, my hands are cold. they haven't held yours for long.
the air in my lungs no more carries the scent of your words.
i look as the sun goes down the horizon 'n' the sky comes home
and i wonder what is your colour on the sky.
that's when i realise you never had one,
you just let me paint your patch of sky over and over.
author's note:
i think, this will always remain a special poem in my heart. :') do let me know your views! it's always enthralling to read all your comments. have a beautiful day 'n' do not forget to
YOU ARE READING
Mixtape | Poetry
PoetryMy heart's a stereo, it beats for you. Listen to it closely. [ collection of poems, musings and more ] Cover by yours truly.
