Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god
Roy G. Biv is dead
I've studied your anger,
And the red it emits.
I've studied all your darkness,
And the pink scars, and the grey put-downs
That were all poured together
To make up the whole of you.
How many kinds of black
Do you have in your soul?
Where did the illustrious
Colors fade away to?
Perhaps Colors are fiction,
And we were always dressed
In blacks and greys.
February 8th, 2007
Suge
*this poem is cooler than it meant to be*
And the red it emits.
I've studied all your darkness,
And the pink scars, and the grey put-downs
That were all poured together
To make up the whole of you.
How many kinds of black
Do you have in your soul?
Where did the illustrious
Colors fade away to?
Perhaps Colors are fiction,
And we were always dressed
In blacks and greys.
February 8th, 2007
Suge
*this poem is cooler than it meant to be*
Comment On This Poem --- Vote for this poem
Roy G. Biv is dead
Roy G. Biv is dead
