Red, the colour of passion.
I wrote countless poems and letters.
Shining in scarlet,
Set aflame your thoughts.
A kind of love you feel inside your fingernails.
A type of craze that doesn't fade away.
"What comes around goes around."
I am sure you've heard the saying.
Excuse my mistake.
"What goes up must come down."
It takes a moment in time for it to come crumbling down.
The ink seeps through the pages,
Like old scars.
Crafted with the upmost penmanship,
My poems ache in maroon now.
Red, the colour of blood.