Create

Greens covered with the yellow sparks,

Was swallowed by the rave of bright. 

The shining embellishment it brought to the leaves

Has stained growth and burden.

The blues had been consumed 

In which pink, and yellow petals, appeared.

The grit of every hand becomes grain,

And they lone, become mundane as they change, and change.

When its been smudged by the fallen blobs,

It continues, but it drowns.

Coffined in a brown dirt,

Reaching for a hand beneath.