Poem: Bring back colour

raindrops tapping on the window

are like my thoughts falling down to be heard

resonating deeper into the ears of a lover of thoughts –-

who holds a knife in a land of »what if«'s and »if only could«'s

in the end I always stand naked, with no place left to run to

there is a certain joy in throwing things away

changing our identities, fixing our routines

I dug a hole in my heart and waited what would fall into it

-- countless memories lingered there, locked up for years

-- funny how some things find balance on the edge 

too often I stood paralyzed -- swallowing my words

taking comfort in the thought if I hold my eyelids closed really tightly

I can erase a particular moment, pretending it never took place

on this side of my reality, but it seems unjust to the moment I'm living

to be influenced by another from the past

                               -- but my mind loves to cheat 

time brings a tide which washes away colour and leaves us

with faded memories; we so easily dismiss our past as how naive

we seem to have been; we are not who we say we are

never let go of the painter, who brings back colour

                                -- to what you almost forgot

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