Do not torment me with the blue

at the threshold of the colours
when you paint the morning
with the white frozen little bough
bitterly breaking my windows
in a red spilled cell
when you count my blood
in a happy yellow light
that even more witnesses the pain
in a night black left ajar
when you open my tear
in all the colours
when you tell me
the rainbow has been made for someone else
do not torment me with the blue
there's nothing royal in me
I can't take it anymore

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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