Color
By: Charlotte White
The wonders of colors were a figment of my imagination
So far removed, the once beautiful hues unimaginable to me now.
Droplets of blue and green once lept between mountains
Glimmers of pink and yellow swayed among branches.
Inspiring variations clouded my sorrows--
But reality is now a black and white domain.
Harsh lines of deep black
Like grating strokes of ink on parchment.
Days consumed with just two dismal colors,
and the grays that pervade between.
The radiant spectrum of color now a fading memory--
Was it maroon, fuchsia, or navy that used to hang above my head at night?
The color of the butterfly’s wings, I may never recall again
Yet the crow’s dreadful tinge I know all too well.
And the expounding gloom of an overcast day
A constant reminder of the colors
—incandescent colors--
I may never allow myself to witness again.
So far removed, the once beautiful hues unimaginable to me now.
Droplets of blue and green once lept between mountains
Glimmers of pink and yellow swayed among branches.
Inspiring variations clouded my sorrows--
But reality is now a black and white domain.
Harsh lines of deep black
Like grating strokes of ink on parchment.
Days consumed with just two dismal colors,
and the grays that pervade between.
The radiant spectrum of color now a fading memory--
Was it maroon, fuchsia, or navy that used to hang above my head at night?
The color of the butterfly’s wings, I may never recall again
Yet the crow’s dreadful tinge I know all too well.
And the expounding gloom of an overcast day
A constant reminder of the colors
—incandescent colors--
I may never allow myself to witness again.
Writer's Statement: "Color" is inspired by my ongoing struggle with depression, as I try to depict what goes on inside my head through writing.