Skittles
The paper is smooth and blank, whiter than a pearl. Staring at it quietly, I try to imagine what will come from my pencil, flourishing across the paper. First it is a dark face; I smile as I look at the black charcoal contrasting against the paper. My hand moves, stroking hair, flying across the figure’s face, hiding the sad look within her eyes. Another figure, this one lying in the other’s arm.
My hand reaches for the red, making it glare out at me from the paper; it shimmered as it took the part of blood dripping down the boy’s face. Blue, as for tears, falling from the hidden eyes of the girl. Green and brown creating grass and bare trees, making the dying earth around them. Violet, orange, and yellow mix together to represent the setting sun behind them. Indigo was shaded in, shadowing the land into darkness.
Then, a spot of water drips over the paper, smearing some of the pastel. I return to reality, my eyes filled to the brim with tears. When I realized I was crying I stopped and looked down again at my dreary picture. The vibrant colors popped out at me, to show the rainbow that I have always adored. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet, and indigo.
A rainbow held all these colors, but why did I draw such a terrible picture? The world may never know.
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139,556 Literary Works • 672,608 Reviews
I'm definitly agreeing with the others...Move it...Heh, sorry I'm comin' on to strong aren't I?...But it's most interesting...I liked it...A lot...
Death
It's not really a poem, but I liked it. The way you discribed the colors was really different. I liked the title, too.
Agreed. This should be moved. I like skittles.
Hm. I'm thinking this should be moved to one of the prose forums. As to the writing itself, it's an interesting, abstract little snippet that has a good deal of potential; I'll come back to this. =)