Colors Confined


The color orange is exciting yet composed.
Still, a lack of admiration from those opposed.
Orange is bland and triggers anger,” they said.
Blue, green, purple, red.
With shame and disgrace the vibrant color fades.
I’ve forgotten the name of the dwindling shade.
I continue to abandon the life I’ve led.
I conform to each story; to each lie I’ve been fed.
But the lie is not that others are more defined.
I fear that the lie is just what I’ve designed:
An admirable version of colors confined.
I remember now the one color left behind.
It is orange, yes orange that my tears have shed.
Not blue, green, purple, or red.
The tie around my heart, despite all I've misread,
Is perfectly sound as an orange-colored thread.


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741