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by Shonda Chrissonberry

the words he spoke
were always blue
and the love he
withheld saturated red

casting a shadow
permanent
upon her beating heart

he never knew
she picked that purple
radio because it was
her favorite color

and the only station
it would carry
played this strange melody
of him
over and over

07/12/2005

Posted on 07/12/2005
Copyright © 2026 Shonda Chrissonberry

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Felicia Aguilar on 07/14/05 at 01:12 AM

I have come across so many poems with vivid color in them. I love your use of color in this. It paints such a beautiful and sad picture.

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