The Story Of Color Red

Left behind by the Sun,

I spill my drops all over the sky ,

and fill it with all my magical hues .

From having an infinite blue canvas to paint

I slowly make my way to the clean white sheets

of the bedroom, where a tinge of me will paint

the destiny of a bride , who once

must have hidden me

among the pages ,

where , now ,

I lie faded along with the dead leaves

and yet tell a story

which once was of  love

of which I am the symbol .

My sight pleases lots of

hearts in love but at another moment

disgusts people when they see me

on someone’s skirt , the sight ,

that is passed as a horror tale

but only in whispers.




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