Russell Crow

Rookie - 488 Points (May 25th,1995)

Chameleon Colors - Poem by Russell Crow

Disappointment, the pure supreme king has appointed
this failure as prince
the downfall of deception, never present
For a moment, all seemed to be a lyrical epic
a stone to float upon a bed of feathers
transformed to a feather weighted by stones
How distasteful, how many moons must disaster commence
luck was thought to be in season but why contest it
no answer given says the boy turning man
attempting to storm the doors of happiness
pleading for its consent
the boy turning man recklessly searches for love
creating a barricade of flowers and paper hearts
cradling a gemstone manifested into a human being
A jester, a joker in a deck of cards
the losing hand in a game of poker
a subtle royal flush in the reduction to the level of dogs
demanding and expecting a teasing peek under the dress
of the queen of hearts held in such high regard
Second best has always been the label outside his quarters
the boy turning man but yet to the queen, he wants to be more
though his latest fall has him believing himself to be nothing
His word, his promises, his virtues are his life blood
and sadistically mindlessly he, the sun, melted them like snow
This isn't some ploy for attention, this is venting he says
as he proceeds to punch his prison walls till knuckles bleed
wondering if he pulled the tape from his lips hard enough
would his mouth follow suit to make him mute
The queen, she's worth the world in diamonds at least in thoughts
and in response, she was treated like another common metal
Over zealous, he craved to recreate a previous perfect setting
but his mind turned static as his lips mimicked the frequency
the annoying frequency buzzing like flies behind his eyes
'I'm sorry' echos up to the queen's chambers
though it sadly will never be enough
the problem lies with him, the problem is unclear
Invincible, no, never again
Invisible, perhaps forevermore
deserves, it's what he's earned
his chameleon colors changing from a happy royal purple
to a sad, shameful nightly color
Oh dear queen, please hear my plea, he says desperately
he says I meant you no disgrace, I just forgot my place
desired what another was receiving
when the disease of jealousy slowly bested me
Oh dear queen, can we meet at least a gaze
so I can know you've somehow forgiven me he says
I'm truly sorry
but the queen breaks not her silence
only her paint brush
for she was painted before golden for her strength, her heart
now her outer coat sheds and bears only a blank mirror
since now, to him the boy turning man
she's invisible if only for the time being
and in her wake, he can only reveal
his own sadness engulfing him like flames...

Topic(s) of this poem: forgiveness, love

Form: Free Verse

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Poem Edited: Tuesday, October 20, 2015

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