Death leaves a mark
on those left behind —
A tattoo on the soul,
a rainbow of lines.
The deep green of envy
for those who’ve not lost —
Blissfully ignorant of
what love really costs.
The anger burns white,
much hotter than red —
It courses through the chest
and leaves a lingering dread.
Yellow is the fear
to face the world alone —
A fear of being lost
in a world of unknown.
Blue is the calm,
a serene, soothing haze —
Not one to remain,
it hits us in waves.
Red is the love,
the one thing that’s real —
It’s something to cling to
while we try to heal.
Author: Cari R Esta
Hmm. What can I tell you about me?
Rather, what do I think you should see?
My eyes are green, my skin is fair.
I have an abundance of auburn hair.
I like to write and I love to think.
I adore all animals and the color pink.
I have six pets and a husband, too.
I'm earning my BA in English at SNHU.
I write about whatever comes to mind.
And I'll read any book that I can find.
I shared quite a bit, but what can I say?
Thank you for reading, and have a great day!
View all posts by Cari R Esta
A powerful poem, especially that last verse.
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