The Yellow

The first sun-kissed glow.

It held to the green meadow.

Where the chirping birds sing their melody.

And the harp plays music to the streams.

I’ve changed my colour to bright yellow.

The purple has vanquished as the white was tarnished.

Now it’s grey of mellow and rough like sand.

Soft at touch but course at sight.

Where’s that glimmer that shone so bright?

The tough that stuck through the roughs in life?

Where’s the soft cotton in that hard pillow?

It was pulled and tossed till it hurts,

It formed resistance.
 

And I could not blame the trees for falling.

Too hard on my knees when the forms becoming.

And I can’t blame these chains that tied my heart.

To a forsaken past that have already been long gone.
 

Yet it’s contradicting.

That countries have overgrown from building walls to building connections.

And people have pulled apart my pieces and still I stand with bruises.
 

And time changed me from wither to blossom.

Yet I still deny the fluorescent bulb that’s brightened.

Because I’ve learnt to be ignorant to the sharp knives that scarred my skin.

To the sudden slap that hit my face.
 

I’ve learnt to ignore the bad breath that fills the air.

And focus on the sweet smelling words.

Though, the storms never subside.

At least it went pass by.
 

That’s how the meadow is always green.

And the sun will always gleam 

Like that of the yellow flower.

As bright as it will always be.

~S.H.~