Colour Poem by Yohan Confectioner

Colour



The rusty door knob and the dilapidated door,
Falling apart at its hinges.
Brown colour of furniture, unpolished
Left to rot in the corner of the room.
The showcase gathering grey dust
like ominous clouds about to burst.
The grand old auburn piano
Playing tunes of doom and gloom.

The sea shell shade of dirt white walls
Peeling off like skin does below freezing point.
The spider webs collecting in corners
Of the ash gray front porch, which
Overlooks the untrimmed overgrown
Mustard green grass.
The little pond at the side
Brimming with dark green moss; avocado.

The trickling tap from the nearby pump
Dripping bit by bit into emptiness.
The roof of the house growing tentacles of weed
Like horrific bloody fingers reaching up to the sky.

The face of the sky and its eye brow moon
Casting a ghostly glow over the house.
The vines forming a twisted maze around the side of the house
Fortifying the sacredness of its lonely grandeur.

Monday, September 22, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: philosophical
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