Not my fault you won’t tell truth
Paper sits silently
quiet
being itself a quiet place
where words are sometimes missing
still , silent
and so the paper may think
where are the different colours that are sometimes needed
here in white
knowing at one point in time
a certain colour may find itself with the paper
be it blue
daytime soft gentle skies
green grass , a grounded softness that helps the flowers
wanting , sometimes needing other colours to gently land
paper is never meant to be just white ,
always expects , wants and knows other colours may land
its meant to hold ink
feel other colours
it just has to wait
for someone else to write
a bit helpless that piece of paper sometimes
because maybe wishes to write for itself
and wishes for other colours
and hopefully nice words
without having to wait
-
Author:
Yellow rose (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 21st, 2025 12:04
- Comment from author about the poem: Think I’ve wrote a similar poem before ..about paper
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments4
Paper and colors in a poem that says it is without words. Nicely written.
Thankyou very much ))
You are most welcome
May that paper be filled with colours of love Yellow Rose.
Andy
Good write dove. Did you write / type it on paper to begin with?
Excellent write, my friend. Great metaphor! 🖤🙏
Thankyou very much )))
You are most welcome!
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