time only time can give us our true colors
we start as bright colored stars
others as full golden moons
some are silvery rivers running
to the morning's dusk glowing to the most blue oceans
others as pale as fear
and finally some
as black as death as red as blood
bursting from the fountains of the violence
of this earth
we smell the stink
the foulness of
all realities
then we shy away from what used to be just black and white
and the promise of something so colorful
and adopt the compromise
of gray
we have grown and have matured
we think the colors are nothing but what we simply fantasize
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem