Sky is blue,
Because someone needs to be —
— Among many broken faces
Hidden with grey.
Blue meets the Sun,
For those who can not see
That pouring human traces
Washed our souls away.
Sun is broken brush,
And in different shade is gold,
— By poetry of pain —
Its pieces are defined.
Soaked are the stars,
From black tears of those old
— To whom life is a stain —
— Of painters, colorblind.
Sky is a reflection
And it’s everything but blue;
It’s black and white street
And captured motions —
For the lost artists,
And our broken eyes, too,
— That do not leave our feet —
Scared of
Emotions.
Hope's Poetry 