Poem

It Is Dark Red.

Poem

It Is Dark Red.

Its color is dark red, it feels so intense that it hurts

it kills, it could bury alive

It’s not anger but it drives you insane

It’s not fire, but it burns you inhumane

It is not a chocolate, but it makes you hyper like an energy drink

It’s not a devil, but a beautiful monster.

It’s bitter and sweet like a Sudanese drink

It is not blood, but it could make you bleed!

It was a “KING”, a respected king who ruled with fairness in his kingdom

It was objective, the end was known

But now it’s so subjective that you can shape it as how you want

Now it’s like a product, I’m sorry “a porn product”

Luckily though, the king wasn’t executed but exiled

So it no longer rules humanity but it rules some people’s hearts

First, it tickles it

But I do have to say it’s not polite, it doesn’t knock the gates In reality

it either sneaks inside like a thief

Or blindly invades –maybe for a while

Still, It makes you smile

It makes you laugh

It helps you survive –maybe for a while

It makes her imagine that if she submitted to the rule of the king

and if she therefore traveled with him to his kingdom

her light red imaginary fantasies would come true

Therefore, she wrote the following wishes in her diaries: “My dear, please lift my face, grab my waist, gaze my face, and let’s exchange the taste

Please hold my hand, hold it tight, pull me close, and betray my pride

Please hear my heart, hear my breath, feel my beats, feel me close

Please take me to the beach, take me to the park, Karak let’s take, cookies let’s eat, cos I don't wanna go to a crowded place

Let’s lay under the sun, let’s walk under the moon

let’s watch the sunset, let’s play for some time and let’s stay until the birds fly

or until the sky finally cries

Let’s speak about you, let’s speak about me, and let’s let silence speak

Fight with me, tell me what you fear, don't fake a smile, don't fright

My breath you can steal, my lips you can eat, my smell you can have

My heart you can heal, with me you can dance

with me you can fly, just let’s give it a try”

That’s all she wanted, however, the reality was different; the reality made me interfere and write the following in defense for her: “He says you're beautiful, you are! He says he misses you, could be! He says you’re sexy, look at you! But he avoids saying he loves you!

My dear, He likes you! He likes some parts of you He is just attached to you, But that doesn’t mean he loves you, And yes there’s a difference between being attached and being in love, I say he is attached to you, Because he needs you –for a while

He needs you, for himself

He wants you, to enjoy you

He doesn’t care about you

He is so selfish; so self-centered

Because he is in love with how you make him feel

You gave him what he missed

The feeling of manhood, simply cause he is an asshole

He is in love with the feelings he get when he’s next to you

Not you! He doesn’t get your faults

He holds you liable and leaves

My dear, He never showed you vulnerability

He was never weak in front of you and therefore, he doesn’t love you

I remember he says he’s happy, he might be!

I also remember he says he’s fucked up, he must be!” So, She ...became skeptical about it, she became skeptical about its existence, about the existence of the so assumed to be called “fair king”, so please by now, allow me to introduce you to the king by his name, his first name is (Love), and his last name is (Cliché)- and by the way cliché means: a trite, that usually expresses a popular or common thought or idea, that has lost originality, ingenuity, and that has been impacted by long overuse. Ladies n gentlemen, its Love The Cliché.

Still, I do have to say, She has some hope, still, she resists the reality

Still, she has some deeply hidden faith!

Words

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