Love is not red,
Love comes in various shades of black and white.
Lust is the deepest shade of black,
A hollow empty hue,
Void of anything but itself.
True affection is the purest of white,
A concentrated hue,
With a vibrant rainbow hidden within.
Love is only red when you're hurting.
YOU ARE READING
Scribbles Of Poetry (Book One)
PoetryJust a random assortment of words and sentences compiled into a sort of book. These don't follow any particular theme or story.
