Poem: Colours
In our own ways
We are beams of colours
Overlapping with the blackness of the sky
It’s a pity that we frown at different skin colours
Not knowing that we are made of different colours
The other day I held a drop of blood
It was crimson red
And yet on another day
I saw the colour of her eyes
They were a perfect brown
I slipped from my dream
And touched the colour of reality
It was not green or blue of orange
It was a mixture of colours
Blended until there was nothing
It was as clear as water
It was not like the blue sky
Or the mighty rainbow
It was beautiful and representing not a hint of colour
Yet it was the best colour that I have ever known
Colours are our companions
To paint our days
And bring out the beauty in our sunsets
It’s the array of colours inside our minds
That help us occupy the fibre of existence
And derive meaning from the ray of hope
Let’s make ourselves a different colour everyday
Like a box of crayons, together we can paint the canvas of existence
©Kenneth Maswabi
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