My father is king.

He is wearing light blue, up above, where no one can touch him.

He says “i own” he says “mine”.

Then the lady appears, she has a long white robe, she spins around.

The robe makes a circle, circles says “forever”, circles change things.


The lady makes father mad and he locks her up.

In a yellow room, with a blue door.

He tores up her robe and under it her skin is pink.


There is no way out, the lady stays.

The children saw it all, they know.

They were wearing red and staring wide.


The gold city falls apart, they saw it all, they know.

The lady gets no light and goes to sleep.

She never wakes up

Her dreams and her face fast turn gray.

The gold city falls apart.


Father turns his head to the other side, to other cities, and forgets.


Somehow, from far,far away, comes sweet music.

Someone sings.

We can’t see them but we hear.

Somehow, somewhere, the red children sing.

From the middle of the ruins, the children have a song.


Just wait…


5 thoughts on “Colors

  1. I’m having trouble gleaning the meaning from this, but in some ways that makes me like it more. You look incredibly pretty in the picture associated with this poem. The white suits you and there is a peaceful aura about you that is very lovely to see.

    1. Hi! Sorry it doesn’t make much sense, it probably only does for me, but it’s the best way i could put it. And thanks, i was really peaceful at that moment, it was taken when i was staying in a Candomblé house, in Bahía, an amazing experience.

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