Treasure Island

Little King of Sorrows


Color Blind


Roses are red.
But violets not blue.
They're purple you dummy.
You laugh cause it's true.

Guess sky is now yellow.
Our rivers are pink.
Forests are turquoise,
If that's how we think.

My eyes are now red,
cause I'm feeling so blue.
I loved this old saying,
Till I thought it all through.

© 2013 L.K.Sorrows

Submitted: Sunday, March 10, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poet's Notes about The Poem

Speaks for itself.

Comments about this poem (Color Blind by Little King of Sorrows )

Enter the verification code :

  • Little King Of Sorrows (3/11/2013 2:47:00 AM)

    LOL. I too get a kick out of this one.I A poem that came while I was in the process of starting another poem. I live to make people laugh.... glad you liked it my friend. (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. Just A Boy, Edgar Albert Guest
  2. When We Play The Fool, Edgar Albert Guest
  3. Winter Again, Frank Avon
  4. A Fragment, Radclyffe Hall
  5. Comparisons, Radclyffe Hall
  6. The Lost Word, Radclyffe Hall
  7. The Final Morbidity of the Interior Embe.., Henry Splawn Taylor
  8. Líneas Inolvidables de Mamá, nikka mee farillon
  9. No Chance Of Escape, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
  10. On The Potomac River U.S.A., Radclyffe Hall

Poem of the Day

poet Henry David Thoreau

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]