Poem: Colours

By: Rohan Sankhla


Photo by Christian Walker on Unsplash

A mixed assortment of colours, I had seeked to be pure.
Hostile to the bond amongst my pallette I had for so long endured, my mind lied in the essence of white.
After much altercation and unsuitable manner, the white had grown clear.
No longer was I original, no longer was I here.

Everything fell into place as if I did what was right.
At least at first it appeared that way.
Yet, life was not as it seemed on the other side.
Others perceived it as incompatible and discontinued our tints.
With no pigment present to shine my light,
I fell victim to the monochrome of white.

It didn’t take long before my heart detested the pastel.
An undefined, faint persona that no longer depicted myself.
Sprinkling off the last drips of the colour I once desired,
I had become a blank-slate, now searching for traits I may acquire.

I ultimately discovered, what mattered had lied within.
The array of colours I once portrayed each assembled who I am.
Although gone, the white lives as a stain from my mistake.
I must now learn to be myself and no longer desire opaque.



Categories: Poetry

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