Words are underrated, I agree
But why are colours such a big mystery?
They are finite for the bored
and unfaithful to the blind,
Spun together words create magic of a different kind.
Magic to stimulate every emotion,
Magic repellent to every hate potion.
However, words seldom seem biased to the wise,
It's the colours you ignore that heal wounded eyes.
Words bring life to the dead,
colours don't seem to differentiate.
Words can sometimes be caged,
so colours teach them how to be brave.
Words helps us express
the magic of suppressed distress.
They make us love, and they make us hate.
They create music, and words help us mate.
All in all, words create a strong front,
but colours were there for us when words weren't.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem