The Colors Within

Souls have color,

Or so they say....

And on no particular day,

I looked around and saw.

She is the color of orange,

Fiery and bold.

But she does not see how she acts,

Can fill and drain a room in mere seconds.

She's a shining sun and a dangerous fire.

A light for moths,

A spark of mind.

She is orange and yet I adore her.

He is the color of blue,

Calm and deep.

Filled with layers upon layers.

But there is a deep sadness to his waves.

He can storm like an ocean,

And fly like the sky.

But he never really speaks his mind.

He is blue and yet I wonder why

She is the color green.

Decorated in nature and flower.

Connected in with her self,

And in with the earth.

Layered in shades,

Of envy and beauty.

Though it is cooling and calm,

She is green and I think I am in love.

He is the color yellow,

Bright and happy.

Like the color of a child, not gone cold.

A naïve nature based in hope.

He is sunshine and sickness.

Bright to behold.

Not a favor of many.

And well he is yellow, he is a friend.

She is the color grey.

Not a lovely stormy day.

But the color of cold and decay.

A drainer of energy.

If she doesn't have her way,

She'll pick at others.

Until they crumble down.

She is grey and I cannot stand it.

And I am the color purple.

Thinking such royal thoughts.

I must be unique and true.

Even though I may be shaded blue.

I like to see a spiritual self,

Enlighted and filled with knowledge.

But this narcissus flower, pushes others away.

Because I am purple, and I must have some sort of power.