Colors

Pinks and blues cloud my vision

As the world walks past

The me sitting under that crabapple tree

Waiting for that untimely fall

For the breeze to pick me up

Blow me away like the early autumn

Leaving no trace of spring

The grass below me just the same as before

With its greens and grayscale

Each blade a testament to the next

But bearing no witness to see

The next me painted in two

Secondary colors clashing

Green orange and me

No space for the final three

Now will I stay there

Blown past yesterday

Just floating through the clouds

Or when will I land fully mixed

A muted amalgamation

No longer royal but worn through

Proudly or demurely

A deep earthy rest, at last

-@apoem2you