If you were to paint a picture of pain,
What color would it be?
A crimson red like blood poured forth
From a wounded heart or scar of the soul?
Or the darkest black like the twilight sky
Who hid his moon, made her beauty die?
Would it be like yellow, the sallow kind
From a body wrecked with suffering, left with strife?
Or green like the green of that monster's eyes
Where jealousy seeps, but pain resides?
Could it be possible for pain to be blue
Like the sky and sea and all that's true?
Or maybe pain is white......
As blank as the blankness of life.
I love this poem. I would never be able to think of something like it. Your similies and metaphors are great. I have a question for you though. Is this just a poem or do you really feel pain?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This sounds like Lanston Hughes' 'Dreams Defered'.