Red

At times I wish the sky would burn

And take the blues away;

To leave naught but a shade of orange,

And crimson sun by day.

At night the skies go violet,

But in a warmer tune,

With all the stars as yellow dots

To crowd the now pink moon.

For red is not an angry color,

Unless you make it so;

It's passion, love, and power,

Should you choose to let it flow.