Gold
From the distance you are at,
You see my muscle and my fat,
But if you look into my eyes,
You will find a great surprise!
Ask me of the books I read,
The pictures that form inside my head,
Follow me into the holds
Of buccaneers, brave and bold.
Follow me into the night,
Where the dragons take their flight
Let us whisper to the wind,
Hoping these colors never end.
Follow me into my dreams,
Where things are happy, until it seems
That one of the pieces in the vase
That holds my heart is out of place
Follow me into the night
A phantom mourns his wretched plight.
He curses the blood all over his hands
For which he couldn't possibly make amends
As you listen to his cries,
Watch the flame grow in my eyes.
See the green shine and flare
As I see what’s everywhere.
Our life is such a gift,
But between us and joy there is a rift.
For an innocent person it takes horror
To find out they are fighting in a war
For me, it’s victory
When I attack, instead of flee;
When I lay my hand upon my chest,
And feel my heart beat under my breast.
I ache to pass my test;
To win, I will never rest.
Though my body feels weak,
I will climb that rugged peak.
From colors, I gain joy,
And from the love that I employ
To see the smiles on children’s faces
And respect for all the races.
On easels, I paint past fights,
When sadness attempted to take my rights.
And with my life I try to show
That from a spark, a fire can grow.
As I fight disease, and elude depression
I fight to end others’ repressions
It is by love I have been freed
To live the life that I received,
There is no commission better,
Than to treasure the lives of others
When one makes you feel poor,
Think of the ones that you live for,
Find the colors in this world,
And remember you are made of gold
👁 3💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
Comments are closed for this poem.