I was wrong to think
Our end will be a supernova
Exploding with colors
Leaving destruction in its path
No, our death will be scarier
A candle flame dying out in the night
As the wax melts its last spare
And darkness will return
While no one is watching.
YOU ARE READING
Black isn't a Color ➵ poems
Poetry❝ Black isn't a Color, rather, the inability of light to reflect off. ❞ A collection of poems from the confused soul of an antisocial adolescent, who doesn't know where they belong, and where they don't.
