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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I am a wall painted purple, oh, I remember that day well, a girl of raven hair, standing on a ladder painting me; I was laughing because her hair had streaks of purple paint, and she was dappled all over with dots of me. The next few days I was left alone to dry in quietude, then came the antique furniture and mauve drapery; art work was attached to me in hues of purple so lovely, my whole essence was of peace and tranquility. I liked to watch the girl dance around the room so pretty, she looked at herself in an oval mirror attached to me; and I felt she was looking into my soul, often she was writing, at her desk into a diary with tears in her eyes. How I wanted to reach out and stroke that head gently, but of course I was just a purple wall, I felt her sadness; then one day she was wearing a beautiful white dress, I did not realize that she was leaving me that day. The door to my room closed with the furniture covered, I spent my days in darkness as the curtains hid the sun, at night all I had were my memories of that raven haired girl, then one day, the door creaked open, so slowly. An old lady with white hair holds the hand of a little girl, she strokes the raven hair of the girl with such love; the dark haired girl smiles- the lady calls her granddaughter, she tells her, "this is the room where I used to dance." Then, they open up the curtains and throw off the covers, and they begin to dance and twirl all about the room; I am happy- I want to join them but I am just a purple wall, that little girl now looks into the oval mirror . . . attached to me, and it seems she is looking into my soul. _______________________ October 14, 2016 Poetry/Personification/Just A Purple Wall Copyright Protected, ID 16-839-255-0 All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym. Submitted to the contest, Personification sponsor, Lewis Raynes Sixth Place
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