Grey, blue, and yellow

Grey is the only color your dad sees.

He could never play puzzle games,

and you had always wanted to help.

Now you try to avoid his every text,

replying only because you feel bad,

not because you want to talk.

Blue is the color you love most,

The color of your old high school uniform,

of your phone case, of your resumé.

Black is just too mainstream,

and the darkness of your heart

wants more definition, more depth.

Yellow is the tone of your skin,

and of the rays of light dancing gleefully,

on your crush’s yellow raincoat.

She wore it to class on the first day,

but now that she’s down the sunny south,

you wonder if you’ll ever see it again.

Your father tried his best.

He was red in your memories,

but his hair’s turning grey,

and he’s still trying, everyday.

Tell him how you feel,

before grey turns into yellow,

and darkens your shade of blue.