My many colours

Just like a stick of rock, I’m made of many colours.

Break me in half and I’m different from the others.

Sometimes I’m yellow and brighten up a room, other times I’m pink like a flower in bloom.

Purple is my mystic side and always sweet like a plum but not too sickly, like a drop of rum.

My softer side is always green, full of plants and trees. Full of pink blossoms blowing in the breeze.

Though orange is my favourite colour because of my ginger cat, that often purrs, whilst snoozing on my lap.

We have a lot in common and not just our orange hair but if we’re in a temper, we can give you quite a stare.

The red in me shows my temper like a hot flame, luckily for me it fizzles out quickly, with the dampening rain.

Something made me different because at the age of forty six, I went for an interview and came out dyslexic.

Though my strangest thing, is I love to write and express my many colours. As writing gives me the gift to communicate with others.