40 Fists, 20 People, 1 Placeholder

Man with a personality disorder gets into a fight

I saw stars the moment the fists came flying at me 

Each punch, however, had a different colour to see 

Red for the anger and pain, purple for the thrill of the fight 

Green for the tranquil discipline, black for the frightening sight 

The rest of the colours blended together and I thought I saw the rainbow 

But in reality it was one guy, his wires so tangled sewn to the emotions that bind him 

After the fight, however, he remembered little to nothing 

Said "Sorry" 
And was on his way 

Author's Note

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