Black isn't the color of death
Sometimes
Death is red
blood splatters and pools
carpet stains
an entire industry spawned to clean up afterwards
Sometimes
Death is blue
Mama's little baby
footsie pajamas and smelling of milk
goes to sleep one night and doesn't
wake up WAKE UP WAKE UP!
Death is sometimes yellow
eyes and skin
toxic brew of destruction and denial
dragon's breath burning
anyone caring or stupid enough
to get close
Sometimes
Death is white
hospital walls
sheets bleached threadbare
faces of families
numb, dumb, blank canvasses
of misery and confusion
Black isn't the color of death
not the only one
Death takes all colors
and makes them hers.
17 comments:
Taste the rainbow...
ok, you stick the knife in with the baby and then twisted it....ugh...nice write...
My mouth forms the words "Oh wow" as I read your poem. Yes indeed, death claims all colors as her own indeed. Your poem was one of the strongest I read today. Kudos to you.
The yellow part got to me, conjuring up images I'd rather forget. The liver is a really most excellent organ to have functioning properly. I had to laugh when I saw your "crap I'd rather forget" label!
This is grim and disturbing.
Gods, luv....but that is powerful............
*hugs*
It's a powerful thought: I guess death can be any colour.
so true, love it.
I've never imagined such a colorful death poem. It demands vivid imagery, and you supply.
I really dig it.
Very true. And very evocative and a bit disturbing. I wish I had your way with words.
Thanks all.
blue, black,
they could be both living and dead.
eloquent write on your take,
Thanks for the inspirations.
:)
amazing, truly riveting
Wow! That is quite a palette! VERY good Lola...
Excellent Lolamouse!! And so true. It comes in all colors and sizes.
Lola, this is such a strong write. I'm a nurse and you are so right. Death wears many colors. Wow!
what a divine piece, you rock.
:)
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