Crimson Paint

My eyes are gray,
My skin is white,
My wrists leak red.
The color's draining fast,
From me to you,
I don't paint the town,
Instead I paint you.
Blue becomes purple,
And yellow turns green.
I've got my pallete,
The colors of my wind.
Now I'm soaring,
Flying above,
As you call out from below.
Yelling-
"It wasn't your time to go."

Reviews

[Embers-Rising]

I'm speechless. I can't even define my feelings towards this poem.
Well done!
I feel like we always have feedback to give but I honestly can't think of a way to describe how well you wrote this poem.
I really look forward to reading more of your words. :)

[??????]

My friend you speak in volumes here:) I really enjoy your work:) I have read many this morning seeing love heartbreak and even pain. I have seen much more within strife willingness. But many have touched:) I do like one where you said your words will always remain:) That is so very true you a great gift :)