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Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #1818530
A spectrum of colours in bland cityscapes.
Staring up skywards, technicolour beauty,
But it's just a mess of uninteresting science,
There are no colours, just refracted spectrum,
Leprechauns? What a preposterous idea.

Facts beating you across the head
With dusty textbooks and sarcastic quips,
Don't point or the rainbow disappears,
Ha! What a preposterous idea.

Smile etched on your face, recounting childhood folly,
Imagination was all that was needed,
Afternoons spent chasing impossible golden dreams,
Treasure? what a preposterous idea.

Now you're older, imagination has left
To make room for logical thinking,
Colours scattered onto sepia surroundings,
Rainbows? What a preposterous idea.
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