White

A feeling so bright, so white,

It doesn’t even feel right--

Such is the plight.

 

A colorless shade so plain

Yet so damn ready to stain

It should be maimed.

 

A blank so corrupt in hue

That the only thing it’s due

Is a gun wound.

 

That way we can dye it red

And hope it dies, i.e. dead.

. . .

Where is my red?

Author's Note

Please give me an honest critique. Thank you!

Reviews

[Wicahpi]

Now that's what it's all about. Raw.
And ... you only used 'WHITE' once!
Loved it!

[Garrett Leatherman]

I'm glad you like this one! I had most doubts about this one, in fact, but this is encouraging.