Blue
The walls that surround me,
Are nothing but made of blue.
And how hard it seems to be,
To not stain my own skin too.
I long for golden rays,
To warm my now cold cheeks.
Those happy yellow days,
Now become all that I seek.
Two hues fighting to exist,
Create the windows to my soul.
Some gaze in only seeing bliss,
For others my thoughts unfold.
Are nothing but made of blue.
And how hard it seems to be,
To not stain my own skin too.
I long for golden rays,
To warm my now cold cheeks.
Those happy yellow days,
Now become all that I seek.
Two hues fighting to exist,
Create the windows to my soul.
Some gaze in only seeing bliss,
For others my thoughts unfold.