“Gray is the color of Hope.” -Irina Ratushinskaya
Ashes from an explosive fire
Discarded, tattered newspapers, left to rot in the streets
Neglected pavement crumbling underneath your feet
Storm clouds threatening to pour upon your head
This is gray, the image of sorrow, the picture of grief.
Gray is the color of murky waters, the unknown,
the realm where nothing is quite defined.
However, like everything examined clearly,
Gray defies expectation
and unveils another side.
Gray is a mixture of black and white.
The first color one sees,
after having hit rock bottom.
Gray is the color of
shackles being removed from a prisoner.
Gray is the color of
having your basic need meets
after losing everything in a catastrophe.
Gray is the color
of an alcoholic choosing to step away from the drink
for yet another day.
Gray is the color of today, a color of the present,
but it is a yearning for tomorrow, for what can be and what will be.
Gray truly is
the color of Hope.
I think your poetry is serious. It has carefully defined edges, and you take great care to be particular. I always enjoy reading it.
Thanks for the compliment. You’re right, a lot of my poetry is serious. I don’t know why, but I guess I feel like my words need a message.
Well, I also meant ’serious’ in the sense of acting with purpose, not half-heartedly. I don’t care for a lot of amateur poetry becuse it reads like the work of someone who just wanted to get something off their chest but didn’t bother to spend time on the crafting of the thing.