COLOURS

We tend to look at our life,
And it seems so colourless.
As if one day moves on to the next,
And nothing, nothing matters.
We tend to look at our days,
And they seem all so alike.
As if all days could be lived as one.
And nothing, nothing changes.
Those petty little flowers
We tend to overlook,
Can change our outlook,
Can shine and paint our view.
And insignificant thoughts,
Become colourful and rich.
Maybe we should see minds
And dandelions as one.
Blown to where the wind
Let’s us most certainly find
New lives so bright.

© Darren White