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Mishti M

Abstract Others


3  

Mishti M

Abstract Others


GRAYISH GRAY

GRAYISH GRAY

1 min 145 1 min 145

Bland little boy,

you’re such a faded gray mess

What happened to the days long ago

when you still had your neon glow, and

your bright and blinding smile 

shone freely?


It was truly beautiful, infectious, 

your prismatic grin, and your aura was 

like a gorgeous kaleidoscope blazing 

across the cosmos, spitting vivid 

sparks of pure joy


Tell me, dull one, when was it that you lost 

your colorful bubble? What terrible thing 

turned you to this grayish gray bum who 

can’t smile—even though he has no reason 

not to? Who put you in this monochrome room playing grayish blue tunes trying to feel 

something inside? Who made your heart dead 

and desert dry like your eyes? Why won’t your 

tears do what they’re supposed to?


I’m sorry, I’m not comprehending, what awful hurt 

could have possibly incurred

to leave this twisted spell spreading 

charcoal over every inch of your once 

psychedelic 

soul?


What worthless, vile ghost stole every trace of 

color from your spirit’s beautiful flame? Explain,

what GIANT wave crashed down upon your 

burning brilliance to make it all fade 

away—leaving nothing 

in its wake but murky, muddy seafoam?


My sad, bland boy . . .

 is it too late to pull you back into the light?

When you look in the mirror, can you 

spot a flicker of color still inside your eyes? 

Like the sunrise

after a cold, cloudy night, 

will you return soon to me,

resurrected in radiant blues, pinks and purples

in the morning sky?


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