Your color is green child, for you are the spring.
If I had to choose a color, I wouldn't pick something so lush.
Being abundant isn't my thing.
I prefer to be seen as little as possible.
A glimpse on a rare day.
Something like the pink clouds.
Or the burning sky.
A color to invoke something new.
One to make you stop.
But to be truthful.
I feel like something so grand is above me.
Maybe the kid had the passion to burn so bright.
But I'm not as brave to be observed so easily.
Leave me to drown in my muted hues.
Gray, Slate, or even sky blue.
I'm not here to be compared to you.
But to be mundane, just feels right.
I have no desire to make a name for myself.
It's all I could do to win this fight.
So in basking in my victory.
I'm refusing to be bright.
The things that once made me pure.
Things I promised to never put behind me.
I'm sorry to you all,
But I refuse to carry promises for ghost.
In my act of defiance I carry what's left of my flame.
To coddle it with a meager embrace.
For when it comes down to it.
In my attempt to love.
I must be sure.
I can.