There are days with sunshine
a Bright Heart
a Blazing soul.
Days turn sour
minds turn grey
eyes search in a melancholy fire
for lost brightness
shrouded in their blanket of grey
cold tears run from ashen faces
like a spark hands extend to
A swirling red pigments the grey
a Red of love, a Red of anger
a Red of heart
a Red of Human.
And like a spark again comes the yellow
its suddenness mirroring that of life's
A Bright fills in again.
A Sun warms a Soul.