by Bryon D. Howell
(United States)

The Author ...

The Author ...

We used to paint the town red like a rose ...

the color of a flower, warm and sweet ...

the color of a heart, the blood which flows.

Today, that color`s changed. We missed a beat.

A blackness fell upon the world we knew ...

the black of death and sadness, autumn`s chill.

The black we see when eyes are closed ... I`m blue

as I beat this dead horse ... I want it still!

We`re black and blue. Love`s angry, cold and mean.

We needed rainbows, clouds got in the way.

We should have used more yellow, orange, green.

And now? Why paint? The rain is on its way.

That`s what we get for painting with one brush.

We must accept our colors and ... the blush.

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a perfect poem for a break-up
by: someone who loved you before

EVen if you used only one brush, the town will still be painted, but only if you and your love painted it together. :)

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