Forget Me Not (Poem#7)

The world is black,
But the sky still is blue,
Looking much what is like
A terrifying bruise.

The streets are red,
But the grass still is green,
Giving christmas spirit
A newfound gleam.

I heard that yellow is the color of hope,
But only stars in the sky shine through and cope,
The rest of this world is so dark, so brown,
Just a broken wasteland brought to the ground.

Cracked asphalt streets and crumbling walls,
Where no color reaches, a world that continues to fall.
I've walked through this city, through this death and despair.
Broken and twisted, I leave, bet I'll find color out there.

Hills, ranging from dead to green,
A flower I saw, its color beamed.
I bright violet, unforgettable.
Id pick it from the ground, but the wilting would be unbearable.

I walked on, seeing a rushing stream,
A clear so blue, you could tell it was clean
Walking on, I found a hut that screams,
'The people here are not what they seem.'

So many clothes with so many colors,
The smiles on faces showing white teeth of others.
The brightness of eyes, the fairness of skin,
A world that seemed free from all pain, from all sin.

Until word came of a daring rebellion,
That people in trash towns have risen, have spoken.
A city I know, I came from and seen,
Set fire to houses, no longer pristine and clean.

The colours were fiery,
Orange, yellow, red.
The sky was black, was crispy,
Smoke filled and dead.

Tears cried were blue,
The far hills, barely green.
And the flower, forgotten,
Purple, the Forget-Me-Not seen.

I sat next to this beauty,
The only colour, only life,
That is left in this destruction
And wore on through the strife.

Siren, planes, bombs, screams of pain,
But I sat by my flower, I stayed there, distraught.
Explosions, gunshots, a hit, loss of blood,
But I stayed by my flower, laying motionless in my spot.
Next to my beautiful, Forget-Me-Not