Green to Gray

Green to Grey


I have before seen flowers spruced such to convey meaning,

And I have before been offered a rose,

Of tantalizing beauty.


But I sit here in a meadow of dandelions,

(The weeds of a flower)


For the world had left them unkept.


I do not see tomorrow through the glass made today,

Instead, I watch the moon shift in the sky,

And I pray.


Pray for a Better world,

Where the green goes to gray,

Or perhaps my life, to become transparent.


I don't know the meaning of a pasture with little roots,

Hidden beneath the festering soil.


Funny isn't it?

How I can't see the stars’ fluorescent sheen behind the moon,

Or perhaps how it offers guidance without meaning,

All while shadowing the oceans of a world not once before established.


I guess my point is this:

If you walk in a meadow,

Looking at the Daisies,

Begging for the red of a rose to pop out of the sea of pedals,

I implore you to watch the wind shift throughout the day,

As it moves from Green unto gray.


As the blacks fade into white,

Little can be pronounced from a shade of red,

How it penetrates the skin.


I do not regret the taking of that rose,

Or the picking of a daisy,

I will, instead, watch the world before me swift in melody,

Forgiving the wind for its brutal movement.


Why detest the moon for covering my view?

For it’s the thing that blinds a man of great stature,

Which makes necessary to grow and become what is meant to be.


And what develops from deep beneath a layer of bloody skin,

Will take hold of the stars.



Posses not.


For I suppose,

The stars twinkle for a reason.


Drift along the sea,

(A petal of a violet)

Contrast with the ocean’s tides,

And never do forget,

The rocks that lay below,

Have been eroded by the ages,

faded far beneath a grimy surface.


For it’s a triumph,

From green until gray.

DepersonalizationDepressionDerealizaitonGreen to GrayImageryJoyousLoveMelodramaticReveringSadness

◄ Withered Leaves

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Tue 30th May 2017 13:20

This has a lot to say from a mind that thinks deeply. Maybe it becomes a bit obscure in places; thinking often does. But the thoughts are very fine, and well worth sharing.

Perhaps, you might now reread - and reread - your ideas/your lines and see where you might conjoin similar thoughts, or ruthlessly eliminate some altogether as simply repetitive. Cutting is HARD, but it is a great exercise in becoming a really good writer. I'm still trying to follow this excellent advice given to me. More than once!

You must keep writing. Your mind is whirling with thinking. And that is the most important 'talent' of all.

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