Colour of Life
We give to life what it deserves,
Or less if we're nerved;
The despair of living, and with sunburnt toils,
Enticing weary hearts to bleed so.
And nights in heated bloom,
Or disturbing looms;
That which stains the sheets of slumber,
Dreaming of more tender moments.
Where death torments, set us free,
For it is there we shall be moved,
And indicate the wisdom of being prosperous,
Cracking the whip as burning thoughts sway.
Old swells, young swells,
It's the colour of life,
From everything beautiful to everything sad,
But we're entrusted to keeping faith.
The youth of tomorrow needs the love,
Or despaired minds will falter,
Seeking there a suicide train to the edge of heaven,
Will they see in time, the tragic trace of despair?
We are all surely prone,
As tranquil as rain,
For it can calm the nerves, or raze ones life,
Through floods and cyclones it is known.
So life is fraught with fragility,
Yet we give it all our hope,
To run free, to fly towards a flourishing zeal,
With inconvenience pushed to the rear.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
