Iridescence and Duchesses – Post Twenty-Eight

My prism reflects colors
Its’ colors reflects emotions
Emotions are relative.

My green mirrors delicate, faint
Acquainting us with its’ shy spirit.
But, once acquainted with my Green,
You realize its’ enveloped with an ornery nature.

My red confesses discourteous demeanors
It relates to you its’ regrets,
of sticks and stones it threw,
& ignorant colloquy it thrust
throughout periods of its’ life.

My blue weeps for its’ lost adulations.
Its’ melancholy song hums mournful pleas.
Pleas of why & how, oh please come back.
Blue hums through its’ tears of anguished grief.

My midnight envisions fires & devastation,
It cheers for tears and lamentations.
But though its’ derisive approach is convincing,
I have hopes that it is only a mirage.

My pink emulates fate,
& how fragile devotion can be.
It relates its’ fear of breaking a heart
That is not her own, but of a devoted.

You feel my colors, they reflect off your skin.
The sun shines through my prism,
Fearless drops of sunlight telling you stories,
such beautiful stories,
of how a human heart struggles.

Such a fear of grasping,
Such fear of letting go,
Will I break if I fall?
Or will I wither if I sway?
I know my prince won’t catch me
He walks so shakily.
His footing is not sure,
His strut unsolid.

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