Renda Writer - Colors

Mismanagement damages the fabrics
Woven by the chosen few
The pointing finger chose you
Red light special
Code blue
Blue light special
Red light
Stop
Green go
Green money
Green grasso
Green leaves
Then the green leaves
Unless we start living green
Green seems
To be common
The common theme
The common ground
Is color
We're all brothers from another mother smothered by
The sun and the sky
Everything under the sun has not yet been done
And why?

poem by Renda Writer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!