White
It looks so familiar, yet I’ve never been here before
A name on my palm, now a blur, I can’t read anymore
A shadow just passed by my side,
They bow and they ask me to rise—
Everyone’s gone while I slept, lost in the tide.
The final stop, they now declare,
My mind is drifting, thin as air.
When the driver halts in the middle of nowhere,
He beckons me to step down here.
Beyond the clouds, what lies ahead?
I feel my colors start to shed.
Into the void, each step I tread
Makes me whiter,
Whiter,
White.
I don’t want to go, yet I cannot stay,
Hearing the sighs of those who watch me walk away.
I feel for them, standing there so long,
Looking at my hands where the colors have gone;
In the way I leave, I finally see through.
They say the final stop
Is always a blur of something.
When the driver stalls in mid-air,
They beckon me:
“Step down.”
Down here.
Whiter.
Whiter.
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/zKIVqu9gmS
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/vVlduG84p5