Someone is trying to explain and spread feelings out.
Red, blue, angry.
Black, red, happy.
Red, pink.
I see my dreams every time I wake up.
The sketches are still there in the morning.
They remind me of somebody I know.
It seems as if it was all real and golden.
Is it so?
It must be something haunting me from the past.
By Allenique, 3rd grade
Leslie Richardson
Awesome poem. I can relate.
Allenique Matthews
Thanks I did that 6 years ago…