The gray, the blue, the brown and green,
an understatement, something seen.
Delight to me, they're simply complicated,
enigmatic, cold, set to melt.
You've seen, you've felt.
They have a history.
Like locked doors, they are a mystery,
a magic forest I cannot walk through,
a box that holds the secret,
I cannot find the key to.
Rainbows in summer with ever changing color.
Hungry embers waiting for the flame
of a timid soul, a naive dame.
Rows and rows of untouched files, waiting to be opened soon.
I'm like a space probe on the moon
without a map.
Two starving windows that trap
a lonely wish I'd never hide,
to see the person kept inside.
The one that breaks, the one that shatters
the only thing that ever mattered
to me.