Bricks

A yellow brick in a sea of red,
My thoughts linger in words unsaid.
I drown in silence, weighed down by dread,
Hanging on to life by a single thread.

Then comes the poet, a pen of blue,
He writes the world, once turned askew.
His words are wisdom, astute and true,
Promises paint the world anew.

Bricks re-laid in shining gold,
Heart no longer hard and cold.
The poet takes the brick so old,
And gives her but a hand to hold.

Reviews

[Relic]

How others influence us can change our point of view and add a new set of colors to our life.

I like this.

[mattavelli]

Hello, Ashleigh! :)
This is a lovely poem. It's important for bricks to fit in.