Black Blacker Blackest. No in between. Black. Greyof loneliness, black. Grey of lovelessness. Black. White, blinding white of selfishness Black. Black Queen that she is, the venom that she spills, she’ll never have me! For while I’m Black. Soul Blacker than Night’s own eyes, I can Love. While I have no love, I can. I would. If I could. But there’s no one here. No one here. No one. No.
Reason for writing:
None given
Birth sign: Not entered
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View more poems by Chris Brinkley (Cancer).